


Fate/Tomorrow

by author_lee_green



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drama, Gen, Original Character(s), POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 47,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24241279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author_lee_green/pseuds/author_lee_green
Summary: A point-of-view story with an original cast of characters. Masters from all backgrounds around the world come to fight in the Holy Grail War, but they must balance their past transgressions with their present needs. Memories, feelings, friendships, and families will be tested as each Master has their own personal battles they're trying to win.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the outskirts of Luoyang, China, mages gather to contest the most coveted prize in the magical realm: the Holy Grail. Mages summon Servants, powerful familiars of legendary and historical origins, to battle and fight for their chance at grasping the wish-granting artifact. Once every ten years, the Holy Grail surfaces again and seeks a new champion.

Viktor I

"You'll win the war again, Grandfather. Summon Saber like you did ten years ago and you'll win the Holy Grail for the Conrad family with ease! You two were invincible during the last war, " cheered one of Viktor Conrad's many grandchildren.

 _"You must feel like you're invincible."_ Viktor snarled and shook his head. Ghosts from his past found the perfect times to plague his thoughts.

"I'm too old now to care about winning or losing," Viktor snorted back. Viktor had won the Holy Grail ten years ago with his Saber, Yamato Takeru. However, during the previous war's summoning, the artifact he used to summon Saber was destroyed and its magical energy faded away in the process. The chances of summoning Yamato Takeru again were slim, but the family still held numerous artifacts for a strong hero.

Viktor might have been older by this point, but he was far from frail. He had participated in the two previous Holy Grail Wars first as a supporting family member, and when it was time for him to take the mantle from his aunt, he decidedly won. Viktor was tall, but his age did show on his hands and face, as he sported numerous wrinkles and calluses. He had thin white hair that further pronounced his age and his forearms bore scars from the previous wars; gashes could be seen across his hands from the constant use of offensive spells.

Viktor glanced at around the Conrad summoning chambers and squinted at the family's eyes that peered at him. All of his minors had wealth, power, and prosperity beyond any imaginable means thanks to his previous Holy Grail victory. They, of course, had high expectations of him again. Brothers, sisters, cousins, children, grandchildren, everyone wanted more of what Viktor had already achieved. As he began the summoning, he wondered if this was all worth doing again. "If there's a chance," he mumbled, "I need to try."

Erica I

"It's time, Erica," Caitlin said softly. "Do you have the artifact?" Erica rummaged around her back jean pocket as she fished for a loose piece of floral fabric. "I still can't believe that is what you plan to use to summon a Servant."

"It's what we have. Look around at this basement full of junk. Even finding this was incredible," Erica jotted back.

"All of the knight classes are probably taken by houses that are still noble."

"Our house is just as old and noble as the Conrads or Bachs."

"Twenty years ago, maybe. Our brother is dead. Our mother is dead. Our father is dead. It's just us now. If we fail here then the Weiss name is truly gone." As Erica ignored her fraternal twin sister's concerns, she presented the fabric: a handkerchief, woven with silk from sacred worms and dully dyed with deep reds. She held the handkerchief in the palm of her own hand and pulsed magical energy into it from her arm. A similarly shaded red magical circle engorged her feet; it burned the air around the sisters and glimmered off of the dust that floated in the cold basement.

"Heed my word," Erica began.

"My will creates your body.

Your sword creates my destiny.

If you obey the Grail's call and obey my will and reason, then answer me.

I hereby swear that I shall be all the good in the world.

I shall defeat all evil in the world.

Seventh Heaven clad in the great words of power, come forth from the Binding Circle, now…

Guardian of the Scales!"

The glimmer of red light pierced through the air as it created its own winds that blew past the girls' brown hair and burst outward. A dense fog of red smoke plumed up from their Birmingham home basement floor as Erica heard new footsteps climb toward her.

"I will answer your call," a man said. As the fog thinned out, the sisters could see the Servant in his entirety: he donned a white military general's uniform, decorated with tassels and medals that honored his deeds. His darker skin contrasted against the uniform magnificently, which showcased his outward machismo. "Tell me, fair ladies, which of you is my Master?"

"I am. Erica Weiss," she piped up as she swallowed in nervousness.

"And you?" the Servant asked as he looked towards Caitlin.

"Her twin sister. Caitlin." The two were shocked at how he carried himself, even as he stood still. His broad chest pulsed outward with every breath he took. "Let's...get some things straight: what is your name, Servant? And what class are you?" Caitlin asked, curious to what this man could do in battle. She assumed with the military outfit, perhaps Erica had summoned a Rider, which would have been satisfactory. The Servant smirked and raised his hands to meet the air around his shoulders.

"I come to you as the heroic embodiment of the Moor of Venice, Saber class." The two's mouths dropped to the floor. Not only did Erica summon a knight class, but she summoned the Saber.

"We...we have the strongest Servant!" Erica belted out.

"I would argue that much as well," Saber replied as he flexed his arms and back muscles intimidatingly.

Mai I

The Servant stood firmly and stared down at the young woman collapsed on the floor from the summoning. Blue sparks rose from the floor and dissipated as they slowly travelled upward. The Servant had silky black hair tied in a bun on the back of her head and wore a decorative, stencil-traced garment that flowed down past her shins under scaled plate armor that resided over her chest, shoulders, and arms.

"I...I did it! I mean, I followed the instructions and said the right stuff, but wow, I didn't expect you to look so...so...," the teenage girl said out loud.

"I have answered the call. Are you my Master?"

"Oh, yes! Umm, my name is, Ay-, ahem," she started as she rose to her feet and added more of a serious tone to her voice instead of bewilderment, "Mai Ayumi. I am your Master. That sounds awful, I mean, doesn't it? Can we stick with just Mai? But yes, my command seals! See?" Mai showed the Servant the back of her hand and revealed the symbolic crests of high magic. The three segments were symmetrical with curved knots; it resembled a lily flower.

With a pause, the Servant examined her Master. She soaked in the aura that emanated from Mai and assessed how strong her Master was. Mai sported shoulder length black hair, kept out of her face with a couple of crossed hair clips, along with glossy brown eyes. Mai reached over to a desk and picked up a deteriorated book. "Now, if my father's old notes are right, you're supposed to be a class."

"I am a Lancer class Servant. Polearms like my naginata are my specialty but I excel with knives as well," Lancer said, while she still examined Mai's presence and basked in her magical energy. "Master - Mai, if you don't mind me asking, is there anyone else here? And where are we?"

"Oh! We're in a hotel in Seoul right now, but I'm from Japan. There's no one else here; just me and some running away from other responsibilities. Why do you ask?" Lancer's expression hadn't wavered, but decided to answer truthfully.

"Master, to be honest, I'm receiving a very large amount of magical energy, and you're relatively young to be participating in a Holy Grail War." Mai frowned slightly as she knew what Lancer meant.

"That's okay. The Mages' Association said the same thing." Mai's eyes lessened as she rolled up one of her arm sleeves, as well as a pant leg to show her new Servant her extensive magical circuits. "I come from a very old line of mages, but the truth is I barely know anything specific about magecraft. I hardly even know the time and place to use some of the spells I have, but when I study them and try my best it usually works out. Twenty years ago, just before I was born, my father died in the Holy Grail War. Although my mother knew plenty about magecraft herself, a lot of his spells are still foreign to me. I was definitely too young to enter the war when I was nine, but now I want to prove to the Association that I can do it! I want to make my father proud and the generations before him." Lancer smiled as she began to understand that her Master was truly a lighthearted young woman who wanted to make her mark on the world. "Having said all of that, now that you know how inexperienced I am, will you still fight with me?"

Lancer grinned, excited to see the young determination behind Mai's eyes and resolve in her blood, satisfied in the lack of evil behind her words, and replied, "I'm with you, Mai."

Viktor II

Viktor sat behind a large desk and contemplated his first move once all of the Servants were summoned. Once they all arrived outside of Luoyang, the battle would commence. Certainly Viktor's experience over the other Masters would give him a viable edge in the fray.

"Caster?" he called out. Immediately, Caster materialized from his spiritual form. Caster donned a long white cloak that concealed more comfortable apparel beneath. His long blonde hair was tied in a tail and flowed freely down to his upper back. He had no armor and bore no resemblance to a Golden Age Caster.

"Yes?"

"Have you strengthened the magical field around the hideout? The last thing we want is Assassin creeping in or Rider busting down the front door."

"Of course, Master. All preparations are complete. The field has been reinforced, and additional safety measures have been set up as well. Even if a Servant had a high ranking dispelling Noble Phantasm, I'm confident it would dematerialize by the time it broke the barrier, putting us at an advantage anyway. Might I ask, per your notes, of course, when you might have us making our debut?" Caster replied.

"Ideally, maybe on the second or third night. I'd hope for at least one of the knights to fall. Preferably Saber or Lancer. I'm not worried about Archer, your spells would counter him easily in a full battle. The strengthened barrier will most likely keep us safe from Rider and Assassin. As always, Berserker is a wild card, hopefully he can knock himself out too depending on the spirit. There are too many variables this early, too many heroes I don't know that are still in the game." Viktor sighed and remembered his head first charge in the last war. When he had Saber, the strategy was much different.

"I can't say I agree, Master. I was a man of action in life, you see. If I did not test the waters, I would have failed before I even started," Caster added.

One of Viktor's son's knocked on his chamber door and excitedly entered. "Father, I have confirmation from the Mages society. Lancer and Saber have finally been summoned. The war has begun," he said with a big smile on his face.

Viktor contemplated a little longer before he chanted his own spell.

 _ **"** **Overarching Eye."**_ Viktor remembered who taught him this spell and winced. He knew the value of safe distance, but didn't know if this was the honorable way to go into the first night. Perhaps that old friend might have disagreed, or even his old Saber. Viktor covered his right eye with his palm, as his eye was no longer in the room.

"Master? I assure you the barrier will hold. My notes assure me, thus I assure you," Caster questioned his use of the spell.

"Not for here; I'm sending it a handful of kilometers north to the designated area. If Alan Bach is doing anything, he'll try to draw me out onto the battlefield tonight before Lancer or Saber even arrive no matter what servant he has. Fool doesn't know what's best for him."


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mages' Association instructed Masters and their Servants to congregate, test their skills, and assess their strengths against one another. The sun dipped beyond the vast westerness of China and left the Servants to fight in the dark glow of a forgotten mountain range north of Luoyang. It was here where the combatants of the Holy Grail War were meant to settle their ties.

Archer I

"Archer, this position had better work for you." Alan stated. Alan Bach resented the Conrad family after Viktor and Alan teamed up in the last war, only for him to lose to Viktor's Saber at the end. "Viktor will be here soon. I know he will. Look!" Archer aimed his bow higher and saw the sight spell that Viktor had cast on the battlefield. "What do you think, Archer?"

"Surveillance. It's not concealed very well. He's basically telling us he isn't coming. Or, perhaps, that's what he wants us to think," Archer pondered his words and second guessed himself. He figured he might do the same trick if he wanted his enemies to believe where he was or wasn't.

"Whether he's here or not, do you sense anyone? Any other Servants?"

"Two others. I can't tell if Assassin is here because of its Concealment. However..." Archer paused and ruffled his brow. Even he had to question what he sensed.

"What is it?"

"One Servant is by the river flowing into the canyon - I imagine that might be Rider. But the other one, Berserker, perhaps, is just standing in the middle of the range. Even a Berserker class wouldn't be so welcoming to a challenger, would it?" Archer doubted again and questioned what he would do if he were Berserker.

"You did that a lot in life, didn't you, Archer? Question yourself?"

"Force of habit when you incur the wrath of Poseidon occasionally. Sometimes you need to question why you ended up in the situation in the first place. Looks like the one Servant is approaching who I think is Berserker. It's about to start, Master."

Berserker I

"What Servant dares come first to my domain, which I have claimed as my own?" Berserker cried out. Berserker stood with locked knees, hair over his exposed forearms and shins. His face fell remotely flat, but had a constant grin and glint in his yellow eyes. He wore a matching yellow leotard that fell down his front and back. A raspy, unkempt tail stuck out from the back of his leotard as it whipped back and forth.

"I guess we're the only ones willing to show our faces, huh? Your appearance fails to conceal your True Name, Berserker. I will certainly tread lightly around you," mentioned the nearby Rider. She had padded gear on and flushed silver hair that strayed out from beneath a leather helmet that protected the back of her head. She wore tan leather gloves as well as a leather breastplate that supplemented her tightly woven garments.

Berserker made an audible noise of disgust and spat in Rider's direction, "It's a disgrace for a king to be summoned as such a class. I'll make you rue the words, unnamed Servant."

As Berserker said that, three knives flew at his head from an unknown direction. Berserker lengthened his golden staff and blocked all of the blades. He snarled and picked one up from the dusty mountainside. As he sniffed the edge of the blade with his widened nostrils, his snarl turned to disgust. "Poison? You dare throw poison at me, who belongs amongst the Gods, Assassin?! Do you have no honor?!" Berserker turned back towards Rider.

"I'm not Assassin class, although I appreciate whoever it is who's ready to throw punches," Rider started. "My master has unfortunately ordered me not to engage you under any circumstance for now, which is fine, I suppose. Your reputation puts some fear into him, Berserker."

"If you say that one more time, Servant, I will shove my staff through your chest and down to the core of the Earth." Then, from beyond Rider, a barrage of more knives came towards Berserker's face. Easily, he deflected the blades since he now had begun to look for projectiles.

"Don't look at me, king. You need not scold me three times," Rider replied to the barrage of poison tipped blades, of which Rider assumed to be from Assassin. She dodged her own set alongside Berserker as more came at both of them.

Archer II

"Looks like our ally has started. Let them know we're here, Archer," said Alan. Archer pulled his bow string back and notched three steel-tipped arrows.

_**" Trojan Arrows."** _

Archer let the string loose, and the arrows soared towards Berserker. Now on guard, Berserker went to deflect the arrows, only to be fooled by false afterimages. As he swung his golden staff through the mirages, all three arrows found their mark and planted themselves firmly into Berserker's arm.

"Cowards! Assassin! Archer! Did honor not exist in your time?!" Berserker bellowed across the canyon. In Berserker's distraction, Rider murmured something under her breath.

"Nice, Archer. A few more of those - "

"I don't think so, Master. In fact, we should relocate immediately. If his appearance means anything - " as Archer was finishing his sentence, Berserker launched a barrage of different elemental spells towards Archer's vantage point and collapsed part of the mountain that previously concealed the two. Archer picked Alan up in his arms and dashed away.

"You let him know where we were, Archer!"

"He knew as soon as my false arrows hit him, he must have a legendary eye. Master, I suggest a retreat. With that staff and range of spells, if he really is the king of monkeys, then I expect a much more difficult fight if we stay."

"Of course we have to retreat!"

Saber I

Without another word, Rider fleetingly returned to her spiritual form. Berserker's attention had remained on the mountainside, and when he returned his gaze to Rider's previous position, he noted her disappearance.

"You too? Will no one face me head on? Do all servants fear my power? Caster watches from above. Assassin and Archer strike from afar. The knights are nowhere to be seen. I reiterate: do you all have no honor?!" As he yelled, a boisterous wail could be heard in the distance.

"You dare claim a knight lacks this thing,

When you've yet to test his labors,

I tell you this, thy king,

Will you accept a challenge from Saber?" Saber preached in meter.

"Saber?" The new Servant leaped down from a ridge higher up in the canyon to reveal himself to Berserker. "I welcome the challenge! Of course the other knights pale in comparison. I'll take this chance to solidify the fact that the Grail is as good as mine." Berserker pulled the arrows out from his arm and motioned his preparedness for a battle as a slight streak of blood flowed down to his elbow.

_"Saber, is this okay? If he really is the king of monkeys and calls his Noble Phantasm, we'll be in trouble."_ Erica asked him via telepathy.

_"Don't fret, Master. With my Dueling skill, I cannot lose one versus one. Although, I've never fought against a demon before. It will be a glorious battle."_

_"We're not here for glory. If you're losing then I'm pulling you away."_

_"You will do no such thing. I will not retreat from an honorable bout so long as I can stand. And I will not lose."_

Saber adjusted his stance and drew his blade. It resembled a rapier, a single handed sword, but had an extremely sharp edge on both sides to allow Saber to slash as well as thrust. The handguard was ornate with curved hexical bars. The steel helixes flowed from the pommel to the base of the blade and gleamed with a tinge of light blue.

"That's a curious blade. It's small," jested Berserker. Although the entirety of the weapon was over a meter in length, it only looked small against Saber's muscular frame.

"This is the finest blade a swordsman could ask for. Come, Berserker!"

Berserker gladly accepted the invitation as he leapt towards Saber with excitement. Berserker's golden staff met Saber's blade and caused a shockwave to push out towards the nearby mountain range and river. With a push, Saber reflected the staff and delivered a kick of his own to Berserker's torso and knocked him back several meters. With a cough, and a returned grin, Berserker was glad he could continue his assault.

Caster I

"What do you see, Master?" Caster asked. Viktor had his right eye covered to keep the spell active. Caster sighed slightly, only loud enough for Viktor to hear him. Although he did not wish to be in the middle of a colossal fight, he did originally want to attend the spectacle to observe the other Servants in person.

"No one seemed to want to fight Berserker, they all fled except Saber and they've now engaged. No Lancer in sight yet. If Lancer is smart, then they'd stay out of the fray until tomorrow."

"If Berserker and Saber take themselves out, it would certainly test in our favor."

"I agree. Watching for now was certainly the correct decision. I would argue that Berserker looks much stronger than Saber, but he seems to be much less tactful." Something about Viktor's last statement rang back into his ears. The thought of a maintained distance until the time to act wasn't foreign to him, but it's not a strategy he would have entertained ten years ago. Maybe twenty years ago when he was younger and had more reservations to the war.

_"I can't just sit by and wait while people are dying."_ Viktor brought his other hand to his temple and jerked his head to the other side of the room to see what was wrong. No one was in danger.

Saber II

Berserker spun his staff wildly from side to side, if merely in an attempt to disorient Saber from his defensive stance. After several brash initial swings, Berserker flexed his attacks from increasingly numerous positions. Attacks from both sides sped up as each swing brought more ferocity than the last and blasted dirt away from the two's dance. Saber blocked each attack decidedly and repelled the king of monkeys with a decided force.

Berserker let out a couple of breaths, yet showed no weakness in his assault. "Must you be a defensive swordsman? I've fought kings and gods with more gusto!" Berserker yelled as he leaped back into Saber's blade. He swung his staff from above and forced Saber to break the power attack to the side. Berserker spun backwards to catch Saber's open side and struck him between the ribs. Saber effectively flew across the canyon and crashed into the mountainside. Berserker let out a heckle and annoying laugh in Saber's direction: "Impressive yet distasteful! You take the hit from my staff, yet still stand on two feet. That swing had the force of a thousand tons, you know. You should be proud of yourself." The dust cleared around the mountainside and showed Saber still on his feet, although he gripped his side in clear agony from the force of the hit.

_"Talk to me, Saber, how bad was it?"_ asked Erica.

_"Not that bad, Master, although I do admit it hurt. Quite a lot, actually. But not a serious wound. Broken rib, perhaps. He's overzealous, outreached, and has shown me more of his physical traits than he'd care to admit. Have you found Berserker's Master?"_

_"Not yet, they're hidden well. Do you need support? I can abandon the search."_

_"No, I'd rue the day."_ "Not bad, Berserker," Saber said with a cough. "I'd love to see more." Berserker's eyes lit up as he charged into the mountainside. He grinned so hard that his cheeks started to pain him.

Berserker continued his presses and blew the chunks of rock past Saber after his heavy swings. Saber continued his defense as he prepared his counter. "You should forfeit, Saber! I'd let you die honorably! You haven't landed more than a single blow! Am I too strong for you? Huh? Aha!" Berserker chided in further attempts to rustle Saber and he continued his relentless swipes.

"You are strong, that's for sure. Definitely worthy of the title of king," Saber started, "but I don't think you'll connect another attack." Berserker pushed off of Saber's blade and leaped back to prepare. This confidence changed Berserker's expression from giddy to annoyed; this disrespect caused him to snarl and grit his teeth.

"Enough playing, then! _**Ruyi Jingu Bang**_ _ **.**_ " _**Journey to the West.**_ Berserker named his Noble Phantasm and flexed his pole to be several meters longer than Saber's own blade. It morphed to the girth of a tree trunk, almost a meter in diameter and shone with the light of a star. It's golden ornaments and tassels blinded Viktor's sight spell, which caused him to cancel it from afar. "Goodbye, Saber!" As the massive weapon surged across the canyon it barreled over any rogue trees in its wake and a whirlwind began to form behind it as it sped towards Saber.

_**"** **Tragic Riposte!"**_ Saber brought his rapier to the monstrous pole and met the attack. The staff slammed into Saber and caused a pulse to ripple through his body as pressure soared outwardly past him. Rocks and dirt alike were flung from the scene with the inward winds from the swing. Saber's muscles ripped and bones crackled with the deflection, but he did successfully push the legendary weapon away from him. The background storm, however, collapsed onto him and took him away. Saber had been flung from the battle site and sent several kilometers beyond the canyon with the shockwave blast that followed Berserker's Noble Phantasm.

As he watched Saber decidedly fly away and with a major final sigh, Berserker retracted his staff to its original size. "That was close," he started with a slight pause. "I don't know of any spirits that could come close blocking the full power of my staff, let alone deflect it. Xie xie, Saber. Master, I'm coming back," he finally concluded as he dematerialized to his spiritual form.

Caster II

"Ahck!" yelled Viktor, audibly shocked from the light of Berserker's Noble Phantasm.

"Master! What did you see?!" asked Caster.

"Ugch," he noised and grasped his eye in discomfort. "Berserker and Saber were really going at it. Saber was in control most of the time, but that Noble Phantasm looked too strong, I wouldn't be surprised if Saber died there. It's quite the legendary weapon. We'll have to be careful about our next steps."

"So Berserker is the player to beat."

_"You think I'm someone you need to defeat?"_

"It appears so." The two pondered on the predicament as Viktor shut his eyes harder to tune out the voice. On one hand, they had the present threat of Berserker who could defeat a Saber in single combat. On the other, they didn't want to show their cards too early, lest they want an opponent to blindside them. It was still early in the game, and they had sized up Berserker to be the major threat on the field.

"Another issue we have to consider is Alan. I could see him with Archer, which means at no point should I leave the barrier, or else I'll be shot at from afar. I wasn't worried about Archer at first, but perhaps now I should be if he's with Alan. A worst case scenario for us."

"I might have a solution for that, Master."


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the fray from the previous night had ended, the latecomer, Mai Ayumi, arrived at the designated area. The Mages' Association had advised and enforced Masters to not scuttle during daylight, but Mai wanted to show herself in case any Masters remained on site

Lancer I

Mai followed the concealed trail laced with magical insignias to the designated battle area until she reached a summit that overlooked the canyon. She stood in disbelief as she gazed at the damage sustained from the night's battle. The base of a mountain across the canyon had been crushed, trees and shrubs had been blown down, and boulders had been tossed around as if they had been paperweights.

_"Mai, it looks like we missed the main fight. I don't sense any Servants here right now, we should retreat to Luoyang."_ Mai didn't move. She was stuck as she stared into the canyon as she weighed the responsibilities of a Master in addition to the severity of what these Servants were capable of. This was only one battle, and one of many to be had. She knew she was a capable mage - it was in her blood; it was etched onto her skin. But this. This was something else.

It riled her. Mai's blood boiled, not with excitement, but with fear. She examined the crevices in the ground, the cracks and destruction now embedded in the mountainside. The fight, the war, the magic - all things corroded her mind with images of what may or may not have happened at this location just hours prior. What if she had been there? Would she have ended up like her father twenty years ago? Or would she have had the opportunity to rise higher?

Her thought was interrupted by a visitor up the mountain. A woman, perhaps in her forties, with darker skin and coarse black hair, walked up next to Mai to marvel at the canyon as Mai failed to notice her presence.

"It's a nice sight, isn't it?" said the stranger. Startled, Mai hadn't noticed someone snuck right past her. Immediately, Mai began to stutter and wonder why a random person would make her way into the mountains for a stroll. She remembered all of the rules set in place by the Mages' Association that protect non-mages from the war and magecraft.

"Uhh, yeah, pretty cool. I'm sorry. We're kind of far from Luoyang. I'm going to the city if you would like to join me."

"Is that a Japanese accent? Strange, you seem to be far away from home yourself out here in the mountains."

_"Mai, mind your words. I don't sense any malice from her, but no one would be out here for no reason."_ Lancer waited on her statement to Mai. Something was odd, but Lancer couldn't peg this person for any signs of negativity.

"I lived in Japan for a couple of years. It must've worn off on me," Mai lied. "Come on, there's an outskirt town about a couple of kilometers south on the way back to Luoyang."

"I have a tent about a kilometer down the mountain if you'd like some tea. I travel the Chinese mountainside frequently, it's been a long time since I've met a young traveller out here on her own," said the woman. Mai's only thought was to get her away from the battle site, so she willingly agreed.

_"Mai, I don't like this. We're in the middle of nowhere."_ Lancer added, but Mai couldn't comprehend Lancer's worry.

The wanderer stayed quiet and kept to herself. Mai figured that a life of isolation wouldn't suit a talkative person. She walked with confidence down the mountain and carefully placed her feet quietly over loose rocks and steep slants. Not before too long, and after some bends in the mountainside, the two approached a small camping tent. It gave Mai some relief, as it wasn't anywhere near the magic trail that the Association had placed for the mages.

The tent inside looked relatively comfortable, aside from the bellows in the wind and the constant chill from the thin mountain air. Although the air inside felt heavy, it wasn't anything that would immediately tip Mai's sense of endangerment.

"Tea? I can get the hot plate going," the stranger asked.

"That's okay, I should really be on my way back to the city," Mai responded.

"It's a long way back, are you sure you know the way? You look too young to be venturing out this far." Mai took a step back and smelled a hint of something distasteful in the tent.

_"Lancer, I think this person is trying to poison me,"_ Mai called out.

_"I've been warning you since she appeared; did you not hear me?"_ Mai thought back to the canyon and its whimsy - she didn't want to admit she hadn't paid attention to one of the most powerful spirits in history.

_"I cast_ _**Poison Control** _ _before we arrived at the canyon, it should last for another hour I think. Maybe this person is a Master?"_

_"There's no guarantee. I sense no magic and no Servant, so don't reveal any hostility yet. I suggest leaving, one way or another."_ Lancer questioned what she had just said, then remembered a critical error in her calculations. " _Mai! Get out now! Just run out of the tent!"_ Mai turned without a response and leapt for the entry flaps of the beige tent.

_**"Regal Prison."**_ The woman's tent began to enclose on itself, but not before Lancer materialized and kicked Mai in the back, which launched her out of the tent before it closed. The tent flaps became structured and tight, much like smooth concrete. "A Servant? That's much less interesting," said the fake traveller.

_"Mai, are you okay? I kicked you pretty hard, I'm sorry. I realized it too late."_

_"That's okay, Lancer. I was being pretty thick-headed too. I'll survive."_ Mai climbed back to her feet as she ached more than she let on. She had not thought that the first injury she would sustain in this war would be from her own Servant's boot.

"Assassin," Lancer announced. With Assassin's Concealment skill, it was easy to pretend to be an innocent bystander in the wake of mages. Usually Assassins use varied forms of stealth to make use of Concealment and will stick to the shadows. This Assassin's strategy was to hide in plain sight.

"It's okay. We can stay in here while the Masters talk it out beyond the walls. Don't worry, I've been instructed to wait here like a good little girl. How are you today?" joked Assassin.

"No games," Lancer said as she drew her polearm. Her spear had a long blade on top of a wooden hilt, etched with burned symbols and sigils. The blade itself glimmered silver against the haze on the inside of the tent and had jewelry embroidered across its back dull edge, while the sharpened edge of the blade curved upward.

"Lancer the latecomer! You missed a lot last night. All of us, fighting, going back and forth, daggers, arrows, swords, it was oh so fun," Assassin murmured.

Outside of the tent, as Mai brushed the dust off her legs, a dagger that acted as a spoke to hold the tent down shone a dim yellow. In a puff of smoke, a man with unkempt brown hair and loose clothing stepped towards her.

"So this is China. Looks drab," he said. "Lancer's Master! At last. We have a lot to catch you up on." Instinctively, Mai held out her arm and prepared to fire a projectile spell in her defense. "Calm down. We're not fighting this morning. Ask your Servant how they're faring in there if you don't believe me."

_"Lancer? Updates?"_ Mai asked in response.

_"Assassin is just talkative."_

"See? No issues from us if you're willing to cooperate. To assure you'll at least listen, I'm planning on leaving our Servants in the _**Regal Prison**_. Sound good?" Mai continued to stare at him and decided now was not the time to waver. Anything he said could be a lie. "My name is Orso Belvedere, the pleasure is mine. Like I said, you've missed a lot. _**Days Past.**_ " In between Mai and Orso showed a sight record of last night's events from Assassin's eyes. The images were rounded and blurry to the sides, but showed enough detail to be coherent.

The record was accurate and showed the extensive power of both Saber and Berserker, but only started from when their bout had begun. Mai started to plug pieces together from the canyon scene earlier and understand the destruction that could come from these Servants alone.

"By the end of this, Berserker defeated Saber. Six Servants are left now. Berserker is too strong and we're trying to corral other Masters to our cause. We're on your side. What do you say? Truce with Assassin and I until Berserker is eliminated?" Mai's glare hadn't subsided. She had a spell on her own magic crest that could manipulate memories, distort images, and even cause nightmares.

_"Lancer, I'm going to refuse this proposal. What do you think?"_ This shocked Lancer. Mai came to this conclusion singularly, and quickly, despite her inexperience and her distress earlier. Although she blindly followed a stranger down a remote mountainside, she did not need Lancer to tell her that this deal was possibly riddled with betrayal. Even so, Mai still acknowledged her inexperience by asking for Lancer's opinion.

_"I agree. Let's retreat and assess the situation from afar."_

"I'm sorry, Orso Belvedere. We need to decline for now," Mai replied as she left the answer slightly open-ended. For several seconds, Orso frowned in disagreement. Both parties were a moment away from an attack in the middle of daylight. Mai paced her breaths and stayed on guard, ready to deflect a bolt or cancel an illusion if necessary.

Orso jutted his body upwards in a quick fashion before he threw his hands innocently in the air. "Understandable. As a gesture of good faith, we don't need to keep you from reconciling in Luoyang. Assassin, cancel the prison." The tent reverted back to its loose nature and resumed to flow in the wind. Lancer backed out with Assassin in her sights and Mai did not take her eyes off of Orso. Steadily, the two proceeded down the nearby trail without so much as a blink until they were past a separated ridge.

"Master, don't you think we could have put up a, hmm, a good fight? We had Lancer trapped, you could have defeated that girl with a couple of spells, probably," asked Assassin.

"Probably. But what would my peers think of me if we took advantage of a declined invitation? No. There will be more chances, Assassin," Orso closed his eyes slightly as he thought of whom he was fighting for.

Saber III

Saber rolled his head and cracked his neck. The sun had started its rise and nearby birds had begun their morning songs. He let out a couple of deep moans, upset with his failure of a performance, and sat up to meet the new day. His clothes were ripped, tattered, and nearly destroyed from his flight. Although he wallowed in defeat, there was something poetic about the sun's shine over the eastern mountaintops with light covered trees and happy animals around his defeated posture.

"Caitlin found you about an hour ago," said Erica, deeply displeased. Next to her was Caitlin as she pointed to her magic barrier with her thumb. The field was small and short-ranged, but the plan was to move along quickly upon Saber's return to consciousness. "I don't think you understood when I asked you if we should intervene."

"It was a great battle. The King of Monkeys was no mediocre opponent."

"I'll say it again: I don't think you understand." Saber peered back to his Master curiously, confused at her displeasure. Although the fight was not won, Saber had a long way to go before he admitted defeat.

"I'd be upset too if my familiar faltered. I assure you, Master, I cannot lose in single combat against any Servant. I was simply taken aback. I'm still here."

"This isn't a game to us, Saber. Our entire family has been lost to these wars, decade after decade, all in feeble attempts to bring the last person back. There is no glory for us. There is no money, power, or success. We've trained for the last ten years so that we can see our family again. This is it for us," Caitlin added. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and let the words sink in for Saber.

Erica continued, "We need all three of us to be on the same page. We don't care about 'honorable bouts.' We care about getting our family back. So when I ask if we should intervene, if there's a one percent chance that you would lose a fight, then we need to. Because for us... for us there's nothing left to do. Do you understand?"

Saber sat on the words from his Master and her sister, disappointed in his own selfishness. He remembered what it was like in life when he, too, had the moment of when he lost everything that meant dear to him. He remembered the daggers and pain he felt as he watched his beloved fade away in front of his watered down eyes. To have that loss stretched out over decades must have been torture.

"Yes, Master."

Archer III

"That showing was a disgrace! Not only could we not defeat Berserker, Viktor knows exactly what our cards are! Curse him! Curse the Conrads!" yelled Alan Bach as he punched a wall lightly in an attempt to further show his displeasure.

"Retreating was the right thing to do, Master. Saber showing up to take on the brute force of Berserker was the best turn of events for us. If anything, I'm relieved," Archer added. He preferred to see the positive outcome instead of looming over the clear difference in power.

"No!" Alan yelled. "None of that matters if Viktor is still out there, plotting, scheming his way into stealing the Grail from me yet again. I will not stand by while he comes up with some plan!" Alan was erratic. This wasn't the first time his hatred of Viktor and his family had gotten the best of him.

"Master, try to keep a clear head. We can think about this strategically."

"This is your fault in the first place! You gave away our position, we could have scouted out Viktor more!" Archer rolled his eyes. He remembered it was Alan's suggestion to attack in the first place.

"There will be more chances." Archer knew this was true, but he couldn't help but feel his Master would make brash decisions in the future. It seemed that his nature went against everything Archer had worked towards in life. He remembered his journey back to Ithaca and how each step of the way Poseidon had worked against him. It was only when Archer could think clearly and respect the powers above him that he could return home. Perhaps this held true, even now.

Berserker II

Berserker met back with his Master after the fight. In a small studio hotel room in Luoyang, on the north end of the city, his Master sat patiently. The woman wore black-brimmed glasses and boasted a Chinese heritage alongside a fair complexion. She wore tightly fitted, mesh athletic clothes so they could breathe while she fought.

"You were reckless," she said upon his return.

_"It was fine. I had it under control, Master."_

"I told you not to call me that. It's unbefitting of a king," she scolded him.

"If my life had taught me anything, it was to respect those in power above me," he said as he materialized while already seated and leaned back in an uncomfortable wooden chair. "Besides, calling you Qing makes it sound like we're old friends. It's bizarre."

"Why did you toy with him so much? I said you could use your Noble Phantasm whenever you want, just don't go wild. I don't have infinite mana," Qing said.

"He blocked it. I never even heard him call for his blade, but he still blocked it. This has left me unsatisfied. I wish I knew his True Name." Berserker thought about the fight and how Saber successfully parried almost every whip of his staff.

"Perhaps he reminded you that even you weren't immortal." Berserker's tail flailed about the chair as he slouched further down. He long ago accepted that fact, yet he couldn't figure out what about Saber's defensive strategy irked him.

"Whatever. He lost anyway. I doubt any other Servant will willingly engage me now that it's painfully obvious how beneath me they are," Berserker threw his head back in boredom.


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun set on Luoyang, which promptly signaled the second night of the Holy Grail War. With Berserker's triumph over Saber, other Masters and Servants have kept wary of early skirmishes and engagements. No wars have been won by Masters who waited until the very end, however.

Oliver I

Oliver Storgaard, a conflicted and rebellious mage, paced in his penthouse dining room on the western end of Luoyang. He had purchased this large apartment years before the war in preparation, even though he wasn't guaranteed to be chosen as a Master. He folded his hands together calmly and pondered at the strength of the other Servants.

"Rider. The mages wait for us," he called for her. Rider materialized in the dining room with her hands on her hips. She had not fully participated in the previous night's events, but still had her own reservations. She had the longest time in front of Berserker before he went all out against Saber, and she wasn't certain that additional conflict would be their best move.

"We've been over this, haven't we? I thought you wanted to team up with some other Masters before we even think about going on the offensive," Rider started. She sighed in her Master's displeasure. She knew full well that the current events would not sit well with him.

"You're being short-sighted, Rider. That's what every other Master is thinking right now," he said to her. She sighed again.

"Sure, whatever you say. I used _**Reconnaissance**_ thanks to Archer's distraction before Saber showed up. I know of his whereabouts, but he's not moving. And we're not about to start a fight. Are we?" Oliver grinned while he bit his thumb. The change in Oliver's disposition brought pause to Rider, as although she preferred action over absence, she still erred on the side of caution in this scenario. The winds looked rough, and no one ever willingly flew into a storm.

Caster III

In the dead of night, all Servants and their Masters waited for Berserker to move. Due to his monstrous presence on the battlefield, all of the witnesses had been frightened. They feared the loss of the Grail while the war had just begun.

North of the city, on the cusp on the Xiaolangdi Reservoir, Caster decided now would be the perfect time to draw Alan out. On and across the still waters, Viktor appeared in open sight. Caster could barely contain his excitement - regret had piled over him as he could not attend the previous fight against Viktor's wishes, but this was his moment he could prove his wits.

_"And now we wait?"_ Viktor asked.

_"And now we wait."_ Caster confirmed. It looked odd, but the Reservoir was vast enough to where there were no nearby ships or outsiders. Not the preferred location for a skirmish, but close enough to the mountain range further north if the necessity came.

Caster began to broadcast magical signatures and send alerts to nearby Masters and Servants. It was enough magical energy to show an image of Viktor's presence, but not enough to make it look clear that it was a trap. It did not take long for Alan to corral Archer and surge onto the position.

"Viktor!" Alan shouted from a small maritime vessel. "You dare step outside of your fortress? Do you take me for a fool?" Archer's Riding skill certified him for mastery of animal mounts and water vessels, so it was more than enough to cruise speedily along the calm reservoir waters. "Archer, fire!" Alan demanded. Archer notched two arrows and fired both decisively. The Arrows plumed into the water near Viktor, as he continued to stand in the clearing of the reservoir, unharmed. "Shoot him again! Archer! Hit him!" Curious, Archer notched a single arrow and fired it loosely to the same effect of the previous two. "What is wrong with you, Archer?! You can't hit a stationary target?! What kind of spirit are you?!"

"Master, we're being fooled. That is an after-image, similar to my _**Trojan Arrows**_. He's lured us out here," Archer responded. The two searched around them and hoped to find an answer.

_"Caster, now!"_

_**"Motion."**_ The water near Alan's vessel began to swirl in a counterclockwise motion and started to suck the small boat towards its center.

"It seems I keep sailing into these, even after death!" Archer yelled. He adjusted the boat's direction and propelled it to go with its current instead of originally against it. After a couple of rotations, Archer had launched themselves out of the whirlpool.

_**"** **Motion."**_ Caster created another whirlpool beneath them and forced additional strain on Archer's riding.

"You see that, Viktor?!" Alan yelled out directionless. "It's going to take more than that to beat me this time! Show yourself, you coward!"

Caster materialized next to the image of Viktor on the water. Simultaneously, Caster announced yet another spell: _**"** **Cubic Plane."**_ The water beneath Alan and Archer formed thin walls around them.

Frustrated with the spells, Alan countered with his own chant: "Enough of these games, Caster! _Disperse effect, maximum scale,_ _ **Onward Trail!**_ " The cube of water shattered back to the reservoir as his dispel was effective. In addition, the water formed a solid surface that led up to the image of Viktor and Caster. "Go, Archer!" Archer followed command and leapt onto the solid water from the boat's helm. He unleashed additional arrows directed towards Caster instead of the false-image of Viktor.

_**"Refract."**_ Caster announced. Light bent around the arrows and pulled them down into the water as the attack left him unharmed. Viktor was right, in a straight fight, Caster's magic could easily quell Archer.

"Light magic, element manipulation, you are absolutely worthy of the Caster class," Archer started. "But that's nothing I haven't defeated before." Archer kneeled onto one knee and drew his bow again.

"Archer! I order you, strike down Caster!" Alan yelled from the boat as he crouched behind its walls. The command seals on Alan's right hand burned red with an intense brightness as the top third of the chaotic pattern began to fade. Archer's bow was set ablaze as his arrows gained their own luminosity. Water spouted from around the boat and flung itself into the air to counterbalance the surge of energy from Archer.

_**"Apollo's Bow** _ _**!" Split of Twelve Axes.** _

With Archer's release, the solid water beneath the arrow made a frozen wake behind its path before it set itself ablaze. Caster held up a hand, ready to utilize the same spell that kept him safe the first time: _**"Refract."**_ He calmly bended the light around him as the fiery arrow disappeared. Shortly after its disappearance, the explosive arrow plunged its way through Caster's left shoulder and separated Caster's left arm from his body. Caster screeched in pain and spewed liquids from the crevice left in his body. Unable to focus, the image of Viktor on the water faded.

"My Noble Phantasm always hits its mark. Thanks to that command seal, it punctured much harder than even I expected," Archer claimed as Caster writhed.

_"Caster! By my command, return immediately!"_ Viktor communicated, forced to use a command seal of his own. A magical portal opened beneath Caster as it swallowed him and removed him from the fray. " _I did not expect yet another king to be in this war. First the Monkey King and now the King of Ithaca. This is what I get for pushing my luck after winning the last war."_

Archer IV

"Viktor! You coward! You hide the whole fight and now you run away?! Fight me, you bastard!" Alan yelled. "Archer, chase him down!"

"It appears they used a command seal as well. They could be on the other side of Luoyang by now."

"Gaaaah! You're useless! I ordered you to defeat Caster and you merely put a dent in him!"

"I'm sorry, Master, but it looks like we don't have time to discuss my inadequacy," Archer added as he sensed another Servant in the area. The Servant approached fast, concealed by the night sky. As soon as Archer turned south towards the city, a light aircraft crashed into him and carried him away into the night. The small airplane's speed proved too fast for Archer to gain any traction as he hung from its right wing.

"Sorry to interrupt, Archer, but this is for your own good! Let's go, _**Electra!**_ " _**Around the World.**_ Rider yelled from her cockpit. The aircraft soared north and boosted towards the designated canyon area at an intense speed. Shortly, the plane banked westward and flung Archer into a mountainside. Rider leapt from her cockpit, landed squarely on the canyon ground, and drew a pair of flintlock pistols, ready to engage Archer for as long as her Master needed.

From the dust kicked up from the collision, arrows flew towards Rider. She easily dodged them and made sure to avoid their previous position. She witnessed first hand how Archer's trickery arrows worked against Berserker. She speedily adjusted her position, and although she didn't know where Archer was in that plume of smoke, fired a couple of rounds herself. Archer's class sight surpassed her Marksman skill, but Rider could still put up a good ranged fight.

A couple of seconds of silence followed Rider's shots and the dust cleared to show no Archer in sight. Rider glanced up the mountain to see if he made his way up or if he had made an attempt at another trick.

_**"** **Trojan Arrows!"**_ Rider heard him announce from behind her. She dashed away significantly faster than the arrows could reach her, but as the after images of the first arrows faded, the real arrows came from her opposite side as one lodged itself in her back. Rider let out a cough and pulled the arrow out from below her shoulder.

"It looked annoying when you used it against Berserker yesterday, and I can confirm it is still annoying," she laughed. Archer stood where she had originally fired shots before he realized something had gone wrong.

Oliver II

"Alan Bach, failure from the previous Holy Grail War. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," said Rider's Master as he walked on the solid water towards Alan's boat.

"Failure? I'm not in the right mood at all for jests, whoever you are!" Alan yelled back.

"Please, my apologies. We have the same goals, you know; you, me, Archer, Rider...Assassin. You and Assassin's Master should join me. Instead of wasting command seals and fighting other Servants, shouldn't we focus on dealing with Berserker first?"

"How did you know Assassin and I were in a truce?"

"You just told me. Your disgust with the Conrad's as well as the teamwork you showed last night reveal yourselves. Archer's identity has been revealed and you have no more cards to play due to your recklessness. Join the winning side, Alan. Don't make the same mistakes as you did in the last war." Oliver pleaded.

"I don't care about Berserker! Viktor needs to die!" Alan shouted, confident in his drive and goal.

"Fool. _**Limb Seal.**_ " Binding circles appeared around Alan that constricted his arms and hands.

"What is this! You feign peace then bind me?! You must be working with Viktor! Archer, by my comma - " Alan's command was silenced as additional binding circles formed around his jaw.

"That's enough of that. _**Singular Disposal**_." The binding around Alan began to fizz at his arms and face as it gave off smoke. Alan tried to yell obscenities, but with no Archer in sight, Alan could not fight back. His mana could not come to fruition and the burns made their way through Alan's limbs and mouth. First his arms were severed, then his legs followed shortly. What remained of his body slumped to the floor of the boat as he continued to roll in pain. His last breaths were spent in an attempt to curse Viktor Conrad as his eyes rolled into the top of his head from the pain. Oliver shot a single bolt from his index finger through Alan's forehead to end the Master's part.

_"Rider, let me know when Archer dematerializes."_

_"He just did. Archer's Master wouldn't comply, I'm guessing?"_

_"He was irreverent. We're done for tonight."_ Oliver thought to himself. One route closed, but a couple more options panned open for his scheme. "Time to adjust again," he said out loud.


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the night ended in silence. Berserker hadn't moved, Saber and the Weiss sisters continued their recovery from the night prior, and Mai continued to ponder her options. Of all of the players in this Holy Grail War, Mai was the only one yet to participate in a fight. With Alan Bach dead, six Masters were left to vie for their claim on the Grail.

Erica II

As the third day dawned, Erica and Caitlin had left the comfort of their cramped hotel room on the eastern side of the city to go deeper into Luoyang. No battles were to be had near so many people, so they were confident they wouldn't run into any other Masters. Even if they did, unless the twins noticed their opponents' command seals or sensed a magic barrier, they wouldn't even know who the other Masters were.

The two stopped at an inner city café and sat outside to enjoy the bright morning sun. All last night, the three members of the team reconciled on next steps and when to step back into combat. It appeared to them that perhaps Berserker had thought he killed Saber, which might pull a factor of surprise into their favor.

 _"I still think it was a distasteful ritual."_ Saber said. " _Keep in mind, I was happily married until my final hour in life."_

"I didn't make it that way. It took everything you had just to wake up yesterday morning. We need you ready," Erica replied.

"Huh?" asked Caitlin.

"Nothing. Just our mutual friend on the events of yesterday evening."

"Yeah, talk about uncomfortable. I know I was on barrier duty, but still." The two continued to ease their minds as the sun rose slightly higher. Occasionally the wind would blow sewage or polluted air to the girls' nostrils and tampered with their tea.

"Caitlin? Is that Caitlin Weiss?" shouted a man from across the street.

"Oh no...I know that voice," Caitlin whispered.

"Incredible how he finds you so frequently," added Erica.

"Caitlin! Over here!" The man made his way across the busy adjacent street to the corner cafe.

"Maybe he'll go away."

"He's your fiancé, after all," joked Erica.

"Don't you dare start."

"Caitlin! It's me! Orso!" cried Orso Belvedere. Unbeknownst to the girls, Orso knew the extent of Saber's bout with Berserker through Assassin. Unbeknownst to Orso, Erica was Saber's Master herself.

"Hi, Orso," Erica responded.

"Hello, Erica! Caitlin, I'm so glad you're here! I've been so bored out here on mission and I desperately long for my bride to be's company." Orso's expressions were vivid as he opened his arms for a warm hello hug.

"Orso...we've been over this. That engagement was set up by our dads thirty years ago. We were only two years old!"

"It still stands to reason that one day I can win you over!"

"There is no reason in it, Orso," Caitlin put a palm to her face, embarrassed beyond belief.

"I've always thought you two looked cute together," the unwelcomed Erica added.

"You're actually the worst sister I've ever had." Erica snickered as she basked in Caitlin's uncomfortable situation.

"Speaking of the famed Weiss sisters, what brings you to China? I only arrived yesterday morning." This was true, as Orso refused to lie to Caitlin. It also gave the assumption that Orso had not been present the first night of the war, thus eliminating any degree of speculation that he might be a Master. Of which the sisters blindly didn't suspect Orso Belvedere of all people anyway.

"I'm on a mission from the Association: some old scroll translated from Mongolian to Central Mandarin. Supposed to say something about capturing moonlight energy. They suspect it's like how plants photosynthesize." Oddly enough, Caitlin hadn't lied either. The Association had requested this mission from her several months ago, she had simply invested more time to prepare for the war instead.

"I'm just here for the sights," Erica added.

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance!" Orso jutted as he ignored Erica. "Maybe not immediately as I'm here on other business, but perhaps in a couple of days?"

"Perhaps, Orso. Only perhaps," Caitlin replied. Although she lamented their arranged marriage, she could admit and see that Orso was a positive individual who merely wanted to show his unrequited love. Orso gave the two sisters his goodbye as he was off to prepare for his next move for the evening.

"I've liked you two together ever since we were kids. Remember Madrid?" Erica smiled again.

"Ugh, don't remind me about Madrid. And he's only my problem because I beat you by thirteen seconds," Caitlin sighed. The two didn't stay for long, as Orso had cut their relaxation short. He inadvertently reminded them of both their duties to the war and to the Association, of which they had hoped to keep off their mind for the morning. Alas, war was ever present, even if they didn't suspect Orso to be a Master himself.

Caster IV

"Arms can't just grow back, even if you are a familiar; even if you are Caster class, you don't have a regeneration spell," said Viktor as he rued his mistake. "I shouldn't have pushed Alan that far, we knew he'd take the bait, and now I'm set back for it. One less arm and one less command seal."

"It was my plan, Master. My utmost, ugh, apologies."

"I can take responsibility for this, it was ultimately my decision." Viktor let out a long breath and kept his eyes closed. He brought his index finger to his forehead and tried to think of his next move.

"We could always call my Noble Phantasm. It would rectify the situation, as well as solve other problems ahead of us."

"No. We're not prepared to endure whatever negative effects it might have. I'm not afraid to use it, but I'd rather avoid it unless necessary. We need to wait now; play defensive for a little bit."

 _"Isn't that what you're here for?"_ Viktor shook his head slightly to ignore the words; the words of an old comrade that forced Viktor to reconsider his priorities.

Caster leaned back into a sofa chair, unsatisfied. He breathed slowly and focused his attention away from his left side. He had used _**Cauterize Wound**_ to limit the damage and blood, but the disruption Archer had left on Caster was bound to be felt throughout the rest of the war. Not only was he upset with himself for losing the fight, but he cringed at the words of his Master's request to continue to hide and defend.

Mai II

Evening rolled into the city calmly. A light mist of rain covered China as the sun set, but left as quickly as it arrived. Mai and Lancer had waited cautiously after their conversation with Orso and Assassin. Although Mai was willing to participate in the fight, she was startled that it could happen at any time and for as long these other Masters wanted.

After the previous day of calculation and plans, Mai wanted to prepare properly before the night. With the third night of the war on the horizon, Lancer had yet to participate fully. If what Orso claimed was true, then they should stay wary of Berserker, and Saber should already be gone. With about an hour of sunlight left in the day, Mai stood at the fork of a river that flowed beside the designated area.

The motion of the water carried through the canyon as long as there weren't Servants around. A consistent wind blew through the leaves of mountainside trees that caused a wail against the foot of the mountains. Birds and wildlife learned to stay away from this location after the two previous nights. Several kilometers out in all directions sat small, long ago abandoned villages. Husks of sheds and huts rustled with the angular mountain winds that carried up the side of the range.

Mai looked down at her command seals and revelled at their inherent design and strange beauty. The etched, red, matte sigils had their own pulse against her left hand. The lily flower design broke itself in two halves of petals and a single stem. She wondered under what circumstances, under how much duress would she need to be in to compel her Servant to follow her blindly?

She took a deep, cold breath. Although late, it was time for them to prove their strength. If Berserker had already defeated Saber, then an outward challenge wasn't the best move. She looked out into the canyon and contemplated the future battles: what spells of hers would be optimal? What kinds of Servants was she bound to put Lancer against? What was her best strategy towards the ultimate goal of winning the most coveted prize? She paused her thoughts for a moment before she asked herself one final question. What was even the wish she would want granted?


	6. Fate/Yesterday I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past of the Masters' lives, critical junctures determined their actions for years to come. Lives and deaths of family members, lies and truths of lovers, and misdeeds towards humanity commanded a heavy weight against these mages; a weight against time that forced them to sit on top of failures, regardless of if the failure was their own, before their own Holy Grail War came to take more lives of loved ones, rivals, and unknowns.

Five Years Ago

"What are your plans in Madrid?" asked a customs officer. Caitlin Weiss had earned leave time after her last mission in Mexico, as she unearthed a Mayan tomb that was as close to ancient magic that she'd ever seen while only being about four hundred years old. Erica knew of Caitlin's vacation, as the two had been separated for half of a year while Caitlin excavated the old Mayan settlements. In the meantime, Erica was stuck in Canada in an attempt to unearth a forgotten Greek spell that had mysteriously been used over a decade prior.

"Just a small vacation," she replied as the officer stamped her passport. After a few moments, the airport filled with tourists clamored and chided with noises in several different languages. It was hard for Caitlin to focus - she had been in isolation for so long with only a few team members that having so many people around her at once was a bit of an overload.

"Bienvenidos." Not long past the congested airport, the Association had organized and planned a driver for Caitlin's stay; she was not meant to have anything to do with spells, magical artifacts, ancient scrolls, or anything of the like. This was truly designed to be a break from the hard work she had put in over the past several months, as well as a thank you for delivering such a valuable magical source to the Association. The Weiss sisters had a reputation to uphold - they were the prime team for finding such items or sources. Their success rate hovered around eighty percent; numbers the heads of the Association revered. With no family to come home to anymore, the sisters devoted themselves to the magus world to expand any knowledge of magecraft they could garner.

For her first day, Caitlin wanted to be the tourist that she was constantly surrounded by. Her devotion to her work was too strong, and Madrid was an entirely new city for her, even though Birmingham wasn't that far away considering the distance her work had taken her. At the front of Plaza Mayor on the plethora of gray cobblestone, she gazed at the buildings and the moving life around her with a hint of a smile. For as much commotion as there was, the scene was relatively peaceful. No spells, no collateral damage, no mission. Just standing in Plaza Mayor without any responsibilities.

"Caitlin?" called a confused voice behind her. She turned with her maintained smile to see her childhood friend and colleague, Orso Belvedere.

"Orso!" she replied excitedly and the two shared a friendly, warm hug. "What are you doing here? I came here specifically because the Association had no missions out here this week - I didn't want them dragging me away that easy," she said grinning from ear to ear. It had only been a couple of hours since her plane landed, but Orso could sense the compression of work had faded from her shoulders. A carefree Caitlin was a rare sight since her brother died five years prior. And mother before that. And father before that.

He couldn't pause in his response. He had to be organic. Normal. What was normal? How could he lie? He hated lying to her, his pretend fiancé.

"I visited a friend from the academy. I've been to Spain frequently since then but I've never had time to see the plaza in the afternoon - seems like I found something worthwhile after all." He shared his own outward gleam and ignored his inner turmoil.

"No work? They usually like sending you places with lots of people," she laughed, enjoying the difference against her own assignments.

"Hah, not for now, just here for a calamari sandwich," he could barely look into her eyes.

"Well, I could use a real tour guide if you have the spare time." Caitlin leaned in and hoped to coerce him into her vacation. She had garnered feelings for him for years since her father died. The Belvedere family had welcomed the Weiss family with open arms thanks to the relationship her father had made with them. After their mother and brother died as well, there was no one else the twins could turn to. Now that the children were much older, it was clear that the arranged marriage would probably take hold twenty-five years later.

With a light smile and slight conflict in his heart, Orso couldn't say no when he, too, harbored strong feelings for her.

Ten Years Ago

"You would turn your back on me now, Viktor?! After everything I've done for you! I helped you get here!" cried Alan in the dry Australian heat.

"I owed you. I am paying you back, Alan. Keeping you alive is paying you back," he then whispered to himself, "he kept me alive, too..."

"And now?! Was our alliance nothing this whole time?!"

"Surely...you knew it would come down to the two of us. Then what, Alan? What happens when the Grail seeks one winner? Did it only occur to you that if we made it to the end, that I would give you the only spoil?" Alan snarled and bit his bottom lip in contempt.

"Together! Ours!" he pleaded.

"You've seen Saber's strength, Alan...as a thank you for leeching off my victories, you don't have to do anything. You can live. Your family can live. Isn't that right? It's something I wanted ten years ago. I'd have been so satisfied if I could have walked away with that by the end. Instead..." Viktor's mind trailed off. Alan knew he was right. But this was outrageous. He'd spent a week under the atrocious Australian outback conditions, supporting Viktor and Viktor alone, with not a sense of betrayal or malicious intent, only for Viktor to cast him aside in the end.

"No! Assassin! Attack them!" Assassin appeared, but Viktor knew too well that he would not stop here.

"Saber, I command you," Viktor started, his fist shone with anticipation and surged with magical energy, "Kill Assassin." The command seal was utter overkill - Yamato Takeru had not needed to use one for the entirety of the war, and to use one now was, at the very least, Viktor's way of saying he was ready to build anew. Assassin did not last on the outback for many more seconds after that.

"Curse you, Viktor! Your life and your betrayal! My family is my pride; we put our faith in you to help us win!"

"No," Viktor retorted. "You only wanted success. Power. Family was not in your equation. It wasn't first. No, it wasn't always." Viktor paused. "Me, on the other hand. I have a family to rebuild."

Fifteen Years Ago

Back home from studies abroad for May Day, Oliver Storgaard could smile peacefully with his family in Ireland after they ate their fill on a day of rest from the bustle of the year. Oliver's parents laughed and relished the time gained with their son - he had been gone for half a year in Berlin while they toiled away at their own daily lives. His father was no closer to retirement than yesterday, his mother kept up with current events. There were no grounds for dismay in the Storgaard household.

As the sun dipped and twilight seeped out, from beyond the distance, the house lights went down and goodnights were said. Nothing out of the ordinary for Oliver and his humble home. Until a single crash flung Oliver to the ground and forced him to breath in dust from walls that were immediately reduced to rocks.

With an outstretched hand, a bolt of energy formed in front of Oliver's nose. Particles swirled around an assailant's fingertips as they awaited the final push from the man that towered over him. Oliver's breath shortened to a crawl. He couldn't comprehend the events of the past thirty seconds, nor could he recognize the fact that in front of him was his utmost demise. What was this, he thought? Where did his parents go? Oh, they are through the wall, that's right. The living room wall. The living room that used to be behind him.

Oliver blinked quickly, unsure of the energy that swirled around the room that potentially prepared to blink himself out of existence, when a thin white line illuminated the darkened, silent room. The assailant's energy had stopped, the particles dropped back into purgatory, and the murderer fell to the rugged, wine-stained carpet. Oliver's stiffened neck turned only to see nothing. No other person beyond the room. No answers. Just some rogue ants trailing in through the busted door frame.

"Oliver..." uttered his mother from behind him.

"M...Mom...what…" Oliver couldn't speak. All he could do was fall over towards her.

"I'm, ah, hah, sorry. I didn't, hoo...come here." With her legs in a corrupt position, she did her best to pull herself into a lean so she could face him.

"Mom! P...please tell me you're - "

"Shh, ah, I never wanted...to do this...to you," she forced out, recognizing her left arm was in even worse shape. Oliver's father lay immobile.

"I'll...I'll call a hospital!"

"No," she looked at him sternly, with what remained of her energy. "I'm sorry I lied. We, woo, we lied. Hah." She paused, and grabbed the arm Oliver was trying to touch her with. "This is, eh, going to hurhh..." In a blast of light, Oliver's mother initiated the transfer of every bit of their family's crest onto his body. Oliver cried in pain, entirely ignorant to all magic, mages, and its effect on life. Normally the process takes place over several years, over a lifetime if given the chance. To do so in minutes, no, seconds, was maddening. And even then, before she faded away, she couldn't even apologize for the life she forced on him. She had avoided it for so long, yet in the end, she couldn't let it fade with her - the generations of mages etched onto their very souls.

Twenty Years Ago

"So this is it?" asked an inexperienced Viktor. The remaining allied members were silent. Jun, Master of Saber, panted as he looked out towards their designated area - a frozen tundra in the forests of Canada's Northwest Territories. His ally, Viktor's Aunt Rita, Master of Archer, had stayed true to their alliance since the first night of the war, although unwilling. Archer had only struggled in fighting against Saber during that night, which Jun had decidedly won but acknowledged Rita and Viktor as powerful allies. Or so that was what Rita believed.

Jun, on the other hand, had bonded with Viktor. During that first battle, Jun had Viktor pinned down on the battlefield. One bolt away from death, Viktor's trembles echoed through the ground. Jun had recalled the stories of the war through the surviving Masters at the Mages' Association; they all had the same recollection of when they first had the fear set in: blankness. Emptiness, even. They couldn't think of anything - final words, things to say to loved ones, or even past regrets. Nothing came to mind when they stared their assailants in the face at the end. Viktor had that look on his face, and Jun could not take that life away. He didn't want to. He didn't need to. His wish was for global courage to stand up to injustice - a fine wish, he thought. He had tried his best to stay courageous for his wife, but he had his faults, and he wanted to guarantee that feeling for every other person in the world. A world of smiles during dark times - something his wife, his family, could be proud of. So his family would never have to have that same expression on their faces as Viktor and the old Masters. It was all for his family, even if it was shrouded for the world.

The Conrad family members stood and stared at the Holy Grail, waiting for a victor to claim it. Although Archer and Saber's alliance was strong, it incurred the wrath of the remainder of the Masters and their subordinates. It was four Servants against two, and it was not a fight they could win on their own.

"Conrad family. I appreciate all of the support you've given me the past couple of days. However, this is mine and Rita's fight. I suggest you go home. Be with your spouses and children. Live. Be with your families. You don't need to die for our War," Jun pleaded with the Conrad supporting members. He turned and stared into Viktor's green eyes, as if he had spoken directly to him.

"Jun, Saber must have made you insane," Rita started as she reached a hand out to her plethora of support. "We need them. I need them. We're all here for family, Jun. Family first. We're willing to die here, or else we would not have come. This is for everything, for every war." The Conrads feigned courage as they peered at the four Servants that stood tall on the battlefield. This was bound to be a major clash, yet they couldn't move their legs.

"You and I have very different views on familial responsibilities, Rita." Jun threw up his arms lightheartedly, yet the fight had already begun. The opposition shot warning bolts to the congregation of extended Conrads and people who owed the family their lives. One mage died right there. The others began to charge.


	7. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Mai prepared for a battle at the base of the designated area, other Masters continue to be wary of Berserker. Especially Viktor. Now that Caster had suffered a major wound from the night before, Viktor refused to make any uncalculated moves. For now, Viktor decided to watch the events of the night unfold from afar. Qing Shan, Berserker's Master, understood that no Master would move against Berserker after their display the first night, so she had decided to take the rest of the evening into her own hands to force other Masters to make a play.

Qing I

The mountain air cooled with the sun out of sight. The orange glow in the sky quickly faded to a dull blue, still covered in clouds from the earlier mist in the day. Although Qing had sensed several magical presences around the designated area, she continued to strive forward with her plan. She made her way deeper into the canyon where the nearby river met the base of the mountains. Mai was close, but didn't alert Qing about her whereabouts. Viktor's _**Overarching Eye**_ loomed over the battlefield yet again.

Qing kept calm; she knew this was her turn to fight. Berserker had been left at the cramped studio room to fool the rest of the cast. Qing had performed several scans on Berserker's aura to see if any mages had somehow attached a tracking spell to him, but she found no such trace. As skeptical as she should have been, she chose to leave Berserker behind and call him if needed. Until then, she would fight the opposition herself.

Oddly enough, Berserker was okay with this. Qing remembered his words as she left the hotel room: "If you were strong enough to summon me, then you are more than capable of fighting on your own. I look forward to it. I'm holding you to your promise when you summoned me, Master."

At the bank of the river, Qing stood. Unlike Berserker, she didn't have the gumption to announce her presence to the rest of the fighters. Instead, she chose to wait silently. It was clear from her aura that she was a Master, and she was okay with that. Servants, Masters, Mages - none of that mattered to Qing. What was important was the person in front of her. The next fight. The chance to be something better than she was yesterday. That meant more to her than most things.

Anxious to show her own strength and before other Servants arrived, Mai called out to her from the nearby treeline, "You there! Master! I challenge you!" Qing thought it was about time. Mai's presence had been the closest for the longest, and two others were off on the other side of the valley. At the same time, she thought it might have been a tad silly for a Master to call out a challenge. It might have been commonplace for a Servant to boast, like Berserker, but no Master could possibly open themselves up to an attack like this.

Qing spared no additional time and launched off of her back foot and sped towards the source of the shout. She pulled her arm back for a haymaker punch before Mai yelled, "Lancer!" Immediately, Lancer appeared to block Qing's fist with the hilt of her spear and a ripple coursed through the wooden hilt and into Lancer's arms. The Servant pushed her away, but not easily. "I think Masters should fight Masters, but I've got a feeling I should be leaving this one to you, Lancer! She seems pretty fast!" The more Lancer studied Mai's decisions and choices, the more she likened herself to her Master. Of course it was smarter to leave even slightly mismatched or questionable fights to her much stronger familiar. Mai dashed backwards into the forested area to hopefully remain undetected.

Qing braced herself before she rushed back to chase Mai. She tried to speed around Lancer for a quick kill, but Lancer intercepted her attack again. This time, however, Qing followed through with her punch and caught Lancer off guard. This pushed Lancer back a couple of meters. Lancer knew that Masters, especially Masters of Caster class Servants, could be enhanced to be stronger than their own Servants. Could this person be Caster's Master, she wondered.

Lancer decided to take initiative and leapt towards Qing. Lancer thrusted her spear at multiple points and combined her strikes with broad swings that only a spear can provide. Lancer's spin attacks alongside violent thrusts made it difficult for Qing to interpret Lancer's fighting style, so she had to dodge to the best of her own ability and force deflections against Lancer's blade.

Lancer's offensive did not diminish as she continued her swings. Parry after block and dodge, Qing finally forced an opening. She pulled Lancer's blade over her shoulder and soundfully thrusted her fist into Lancer's side. Qing had flung Lancer into the rubble caused by Archer and Rider's skirmish the previous night with the follow through of her punch. Before Qing could take a satisfactory breath, she noticed three long, shallow cuts on her right arm. She couldn't land a hit without any injuries, although minor.

Just as Lancer was about to dash out from the rubble, Qing reinforced her legs and jumped above her. _**"Disperse!"**_ she yelled. The spell propelled the boulders on the ground outward and left Lancer exposed. With the vertical advantage, Qing brought the back of her leg down for a forceful slam. Lancer was slow to react with the disruption of the boulders around her, but brought her hilt up to protect her in time. As Qing connected with the weapon, sparks scattered from Lancer's hilt and Qing's boot. Lancer grit her teeth as her own shoulders shook with the weight and force that Qing had brought down. It took a sizable strength to fling Qing away, but Lancer kept her footing.

Even with a momentary pause in the fight, Qing and Lancer couldn't break their locked eyes while Qing let out a couple of heavy breaths. Lancer refused to underestimate a Master who could front such a forceful attack against a Servant. Lancer wondered if Caster was beyond the mountain line, but she was mistaken entirely. Qing flexed her arms again and thrust herself back in front of Lancer. She knew that the best assault against a mid-ranged weapon like Lancer's was a continuous barrage of close encounters. With every thrown punch, sweat blistered off of Qing's head and exposed arms, flung to the distance as she moved faster than an untrained eye could detect. Lancer's defense held true as she continued to block Qing's swift inner movements, but she struggled to find a decisive opening herself. Lancer was forced to deal light cuts and hilt attacks, as Qing left no room for a full swing of Lancer's blade.

Anxious to include herself in the battle, Assassin revealed herself and launched a plethora of daggers towards the two dancers. Lancer pushed herself away from Qing to avoid the poison-soaked blades, but Qing was too focused on Lancer to dodge all of the knives. Only one of the many had lodged itself uncomfortably in Qing's left shoulder. She let out an audible snarl before she muttered, _**"Poison Control,"**_ to quell its effects. Unfortunately, the immediate damage had been done and she had begun to lose senses in her upper left back.

"I knew that fighting a Master would be much more fun! Don't you agree from the last time we talked, Lancer?" Assassin said out loud. Although Assassin and Orso had let Lancer and Mai walk away the day prior, any new situation on the battlefield was fair game. Although Lancer didn't approve of a two versus one fight, even she could admit that this Master was not a typical fighter. "How about it, Lancer? Take out a Master together then we'll fight each other - how about that, hmm? Could be fun," Assassin slithed. Without acknowledgement, Lancer readied her spear. "That's the spirit! I'm so happy to see that you'll fight with me!"

Qing braced herself. She knew she couldn't feasibly fend off two Servants at once, especially since she was bound to lose the solo fight against Lancer had they continued. "Sorry, Master!" boldly exclaimed another Servant. Saber leaped adjacent to Qing, in between her and Lancer with his sword sheathed.

"Saber?!" both Assassin and Lancer defiantly said out loud.

"Your Master told us Saber had lost to Berserker, Assassin!" Lancer demanded, repositioning the tip of her spear towards the false ally.

"So interesting! Don't you think this is interesting, Lancer? So good!"

 _"Saber isn't dead,"_ Qing relayed to Berserker immediately.

_"Yes! I mean, call me there, Master. You can't fight him alone."_

_"No. I'm not wasting a command seal while I still stand. Stay there; we need to wait for more to show up or else they'll never fight you. We need this."_

"Rogue Master, I implore you, why must you torture yourself in the wake of such strong heroic spirits? Leave the fighting to us; don't be so careless with your life." All three women stared at Saber's hands in anticipation. Once he decided on an opponent, surely they would not escape. Qing let out a long breath before she raised her right arm to her guard, reinforced again.

Assassin decided to not waste more of her time and dashed to slay the open Master. Saber blistered his way between Assassin and Qing and deflected Assassin's weak attack. Saber delivered a sizable punch to her ribs and kicked her back towards Lancer. "No honor in attacking a defenseless - " he started before Qing came at Saber's legs. She broke his concentration and knocked him off balance, then delivered her own kick to Saber's torso which pushed him back a few meters away from the other two Servants, similar to the damage she dealt to Lancer. She was wary of her left arm, unaware of the full effects of Assassin's poisons.

"That hurt, rogue Master. I understand that you are capable of standing your ground," Saber said. "In fact, I'm more than impressed. You have three Servants in front of you and you still conceal your Servant. Caster? Archer? No matter. If this is the fight you choose, I will not stop you." After Saber's continued commentary, Assassin, no longer interested in the pause, tossed more daggers toward both Saber and Qing. Saber now had his guard up in full after Qing's miniscule betrayal and blocked the daggers to the side with his cold rapier. Qing, on the other hand, tracked the dagger's movements and grabbed it out of the air before it came in contact with her and redirected it back at Lancer, who also deflected it rather easily.

Without any more gestures, Assassin went back to attack Qing. Before Saber could intercept again, Lancer took his attention away with her own sweep of attacks on him. Lancer's broad strokes and extended length on her weapon gave her a distinct advantage over Saber; with Saber's rapier originally designed to maximize damage with thrusts, Lancer's spear was much longer and could deliver deadly blows from a safer distance. Simple attacks, however, were easy for Saber to dodge.

Assassin's attacks weren't as smooth or coordinated. She was robust and giddy with her swings - much too obvious for any seasoned fighter. Her unpredictability threw Qing's stances off kilter as Assassin would mix in punches and kicks as soon as a poisoned tipped dagger missed its mark. It was clear why Assassin preferred to throw her daggers.

"It's just a roundabout party tonight, isn't it?" cried Rider from the seat of her airplane. She coursed overhead until she garnered the attention of Qing and the skirmishers below. She jumped down onto the battlefield, confident and boastful as most spirits can be.

 _"Caster's watching through a spell like the first night. Rider just showed up. All we need is Archer,"_ Qing told Berserker. Back at their hotel, Berserker bounced his foot in anticipation. His thoughts on Saber never left his mind and he ached for a chance to fight him again.

Rider took advantage of her surprised opponents and drew one of her pistols to fire a hipshot at Qing. Unlike Assassin's daggers, the bullet travelled much faster than Qing could register. Although she tried to dodge at the last possible fraction of a moment, the bullet had lodged itself into the left side of her abdomen. She leaked a cough and gripped her bloody side in response, but refused to fall to her knee.

" _Master!"_ Berserker called out, sensing her pain.

 _"Agh, it's nothing, it missed my kidney and liver, I'm fine,"_ she replied. _**"Cauterize Wound."**_ The blood stopped its gushes as the bullet hole sealed itself. The smell of burning flesh made its way across the canyon floor to all of the Servants as the wound's adjacent clothing also burned away slightly. Qing winced in further pain, but grit her teeth so as to not show any additional weakness.

"Rider! Show some honor!" Saber cried.

"Saber? I'm surprised you're even still alive after how badly Berserker defeated you the other night. I was happy when two Servants had been eliminated - now only Archer is out of the game. Bummer. And I'm surprised a Master is fighting on the front lines so intently, especially since you're not Caster's Master whom I saw last night. Based on the folks fighting here...Berserker's? You came without him?" Rider replied.

 _"Now! As fast as you can!"_ Qing commanded. With the assumption of Archer out of the picture, Berserker bursted toward the designated site. His speed multiplied by the excitement of what all of these Servants had to offer him, but also slightly worried for his Master by now due to the damage she had sustained. The reservoir was no match for his leap as he cleared it in one jump. "Rider, what do you mean about Archer?" Qing asked as she tried to keep her as talkative and still as possible.

"My Master and I dealt with them last nigh - " she paused as she sensed Berserker's movements across the reservoir. "I apologize, but my time to leave is now. Farewe - " she started before Qing had bolstered herself in front of Rider. "What?!"

Qing forcefully pressed Rider and refused to let her retreat to her spiritual form. She relentlessly threw wild right punches and kicks, as she was now unable to move her left arm and was entirely unfocused. It was clear to Qing now that Rider had some kind of unidentifiable tracker on Berserker, and that she would disengage whenever he moved. No other Servants had dissipated, so for now it was Qing's only motive to keep Rider on the field until Berserker arrived. She could only stall against all of these heroic spirits - only Berserker was strong enough to defeat them. She understood that. She knew. But she refused to give up on her wish, even if it meant she had to expend all of the energy she had. Save mana for Berserker, but fight until she was about to pass out. It was the only way.

"No wonder you summoned the Berserker card; you're crazy for taking Servants head on!" Rider backed away furiously in an attempt to distance herself from Qing, but Qing refused to let up the attack. Missed punch after missed attack, Qing broke as much of Rider's concentration as possible. Rider, being no slouch on speed, dashed back and forth on the canyon floor.

 _"Faster..."_ Qing thought to herself, _"I need to be faster until he gets here!" **"Blitz!"**_ Qing yelled. The athletic pant legs below her knees ripped apart and revealed her glowing magical circuits on her calves. Her legs brightened to red underneath the magical lines as she kept up the pace with Rider. This show of speed from a human brought pause to the other Servants as it took much of their concentration to track the two across the gorge.

In a shaky misstep, Rider lost her footing on the mountainside and gave way for Qing to grapple her and drag her down into the mountain to the base of the canyon below. As Rider's head and face smashed against rocks and protruded cliffs, the display of tenacity angered her as her focus wavered. As gravity assisted the two to the base of the canyon, Qing threw the limp Rider over her shoulder into the ground and shattered the base ground around them. Dust and rocks from the force of the blast flew out towards the spectators, even out into the distance towards other lurking Masters.

Qing climbed to her feet out of the newly punctured hole in the ground, hunched over as Rider slowly crawled out from the chasm beneath them, but alas, Qing's energy finally began to fade. There were no more dashes left in her, no more defenses, and no more punches to be thrown by this Master. With a numb left arm, several open wounds, and expunged muscles, her breaths began to slow and became heavy as she fell forward.

Berserker had reached her just as she began her fall and caught her before she hit the ground. His own burst of speed kicked up loose rocks and dust in the trail he made up to Qing which left the other Servant's in its wake. "Master. That's enough now," he said in a sullen voice.

"By power...of command..." she started before the glisten of her eyes fell under her softened eyelids.

"That's okay, Master. _**Jeweled Lotus Enlightenment**_ ," Berserker called. Qing's body was immediately encased in a jade colored, translucent prism and kept static on the battlefield. Berserker was livid as he saw his Master in such a defeated state. He examined the burned hole on her side, the numerous cuts and bruises developed on her arms and knuckles, and the decayed muscle on her left shoulder. Berserker's nostrils flared out and his once enthusiastic demeanor dissipated with every second of his examination of his Master's wounds. His eyes glimmered a distinct hint of red over their original yellow and pierced through the gaze of the other Servants. "I will repay this to all of you ten fold."


	8. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Qing kept the Servants preoccupied, the rest of the Masters made advancements off of the battlefield, both aggressively and in the interest of new relationships. Until this night, the Masters would have been in an agreement that the defeat of Berserker was key to victory. However, in the Holy Grail War, one truce can lead the entire construct of a plan to fall apart.

Mai III

The air around the forest outside the south end fell thick from the mist that had settled. The humidity clogged the leaves and branches around the canyon. Mai was used to the thicker layers of air, as Japan's humidity levels were always high during the summer months. The fog didn't impact Mai's visibility, however, the combination of a night sky and overhead trees lent to the natural veil.

 _ **"** **Set,"**_ Mai cast. After she left Lancer to fight with Qing, she began to set up an escape route for the two of them in case a rapid change of scenery became necessary. She was still near the canyon and consistently heard the crumble of boulders that crashed against the cliffs. Every clamor gave her a wince, but she had a job in this fight, and Lancer had yet to call for help. _**"** **Set."**_ She pushed her concerns away and continued to lay magical snares throughout the treeline to prevent pursuit from unwelcomed Masters and Servants. _**"** **Set."**_

The fog from the daytime mist suddenly fell flat. Mai felt the humidity pull back on her, not in a gust of wind, but with a sensation of a tug as she felt drawn to a group of traps just to her left. Sparks had begun to fizzle beneath one of the traps as it grabbed Mai's attention. She peered around the side of a tree to see what was near the vicinity. The foliage also felt this tug as a rapid object approached the forest from Luoyang's direction. Mai sensed an immediate clasp - something had triggered the trap forcefully, although she couldn't see it immediately. It was a magical bind, so force alone could not undo the damage. A gust of wind pulsed from behind the speedy creature as Mai's trap sent electrical pulses upwards. It was none other than Berserker, as he rushed to his Master's aid. Mai's throat collapsed on itself - she remembered the vivid display that Orso Belvedere had shown her. This was unmistakably the King of Monkeys before her eyes. Part of her brain urged her to run away from the beast, but her body was chilled along with the leaves.

Berserker let out a distasteful grunt and loudly acknowledged that his Master did not have time for him to delay in the woods with such trivial obstacles. He breathed in a heavy gasp and flung his arms outward as he shouted, _**"** **Mass Dispel!"**_ With a blistering wave, all of Mai's traps had swiftly triggered and expunged from the forest. The pulse of Berserker's counterspell coursed through the trees outside of the designated area and scattered loose leaves into the wind. Once eradicated, Berserker resumed his race towards the canyon.

 _"Lancer! Another Servant is coming!"_ Mai barely relayed. Berserker had left her amazed with his agility and quick counter to all of her traps. She thought that surely he couldn't have escaped without any injuries of his own. Her hands trembled in the thought. Her mind raced back towards the other Master in the canyon that took Lancer head on. How stupid, she originally thought. How could that Master even think that way? But she had not stopped to realize that this might not be the only time in this war where she had to stare down a Servant.

_"He's already here. From everyone else, it looks like Berserker. Assassin's Master was wrong - Saber is alive too. This is starting to turn into a big fight."_

Mai took a step back. Even after her experience with Assassin and Orso Belvedere the day prior, she hadn't seen a Servant show so much power in front of her. Berserker's dispel of her traps was only one action, but with that level of power, did she truly stand a chance against anyone else in this war?

After Berserker's counterspell, the cicadas amongst the tree trunks stopped their chirps. Branches ceased their rustles and the breezes came to a calm. For the first time since arriving in China, Mai felt true silence in the air around her.

 _"Mai! Stay away from the canyon! There's a strong spell over us now - don't waste a comman - "_ Lancer broke Mai's inner silence before her instruction was cut short. She shook her head and smacked her cheeks.

"Come on, Mai, you can do this. Lancer needs you too," she whispered out loud. In Mai's reverie, a stream of thick icicles landed around her and constricted her immediate movement. "What?!" she yelled. More icicles surrounded her and floated near her to imitate a glacial prison. "Gah! _**Project: Sword!**_ " Mai used what remained of her available space and amassed a projection of a blade. It pulsed with a purple hue and fizzled at its edges. She swung the cohesive sword through the frozen bolts lodged in the ground and shattered them around her. She leapt back several paces and put her back to a nearby tree. With all of her traps defunct, she couldn't get a sense of who was around her in the area. No leaves moved, no insects cried. Since Berserker's appearance, she had been at an utter loss.

In the darkness, Mai struggled to focus on additional frost bolts that were mysteriously fired in her direction. " _Focus, Mai. You can do this,"_ she thought to herself. She reset her equilibrium and steadied her stance as she moved to block additional attacks that were flung in her direction. She shattered the icicles and they scattered around her dancing frame. The air around her motions turned frigid with the materialized ice around her, and any destroyed ice wavered in the thickened air before it fell to the ground.

 _ **"** **Glacial Turn,"**_ Mai heard from beyond a tree trunk. The shattered ice around her began to surround her body as it swirled upward into a thinly made cyclone. It picked up fallen leaves and tree bark that had been flung off trees from Mai's defense and the multiple ice bolts. _**"** **Congregate."**_ The swirl then pulled itself onto Mai's body and trapped her in a prison of translucent ice and foliage mixture. The constriction caused her to lose her sword while her concentration wavered; the purple projection faded into the air with little resistance. Mai's assailant walked towards her trapped body and revealed herself.

"I'm sorry, Master. To be honest I was impressed; your sword projection was way better than anything I've ever projected. But it takes a lot of mana to hold its shape. It was all you could do, I guess," Caitlin Weiss revealed herself and brought a hand up to Mai's face. Ice crystals began to form around the inside of her palm as she continued, "I'm sorry again." As Caitlin said that, an invisible force threw her away several feet and she crashed into an adjacent tree. Caitlin grunted as she braced herself against the sturdy wood.

"Perhaps you'll rethink my offer now, Master of Lancer," Orso Belvedere had walked up to the constricted Mai and squinted at her pained face. "You never told me your name the other day, by the wa - "

"Orso?!" Caitlin yelled out with a cough as she stammered back to her feet with a wince. "What are you _doing_ out here?!" Orso blinked blankly a couple of times as he turned towards Mai's assailant. The veil of cold air and the darkness did not lend its hand to him, as he unknowingly assaulted his bride-to-be. He was at a loss of words - unable to process that the face that he had just flung was actually Caitlin's. He couldn't accept that he had thrust his to-be-wife into a tree and caused her pain in any sense. Caitlin stomped up to the dumbfounded man and brought a fist up to his gut and effectively returned the favor. "Did you follow us out here?! Can't you see this is real stuff?!" Caitlin furiously berated Orso for his lack of insight.

Orso coughed in his response, "C...Caitlin! I'm so sorry! I didn't expect you to...to..." The realization of the war and Caitlin's involvement finally struck him, as it had yet to hit Caitlin. _**"** **Stasis Field,"**_ he called. Although Mai was already bound by the ice, Caitlin stopped all movement as well.

"Orso! What are you doing?! You haven't answered me!" Orso quickly rolled up Caitlin's sleeves as he searched her limbs for command seals. He saw none, then he rolled her shirt up from behind to see if they were on her back. "Release me right now, Orso, or I swear on my father's grave I will end you right here." He ignored her and searched her calves under her pant legs.

As he found no seals, he breathed a sigh of relief, _**"** **Release."**_

"What was that for, you idiot?" Caitlin reiterated. Orso turned his right hand towards Caitlin and revealed his crest of two remaining command seals. Even if Caitlin hadn't been involved with the war, all mages knew the responsibilities and obligations that came along with those seals. "Orso...are you...a Master?"

"Caitlin, where is Erica? Does she know you're here? This isn't a safe place for either of you. I don't have Assassin with me and - " His tone had since shifted from startled to disturbed, then immediately to concerned for the Weiss sisters' wellbeing.

"We can take care of ourselves! Orso. If you're a Master, then you're our enemy."

"I refuse. I will not let Assassin fight you under any circumstance." The two stared at each other, in disagreement based on old tensions between them.

"And it looks like you're already working with this one over...here?" Caitlin turned towards her glacial prison to find that Mai had disappeared. Several ice crystals had melted and the dirt below where Mai once stood was damp.

"Dammit, Orso! I could have taken her out!" Caitlin yelled.

"She's just a kid. She's Lancer's Master and arrived late," Orso completed.

"Gah! Stop talking to me like we're allies!"

"But we are, aren't we?! I'm your friend - I'm in this with you. I've always been in it with you! Don't you remember Madrid?"

"Don't you _dare_ talk to me about Madrid!" Caitlin yelled and turned her back to Orso with a clenched fist. She couldn't help but bury her emotions deep inside of her as she feigned some semblance of outward strength. "Do _not_ follow me. Because of our history, I'll give you this moment. The next time I see you interfering with mine and Erica's Holy Grail...I will fight back. Whether it's you or not, I will fight back, Orso. Got it?" Caitlin took a couple of slower steps away before she dashed into the night foliage. Orso stood there, with one arm reached out, upset that he could not speak to Caitlin more on the matter. He remembered all of his decisions, all of his setbacks, and all of his mistakes he had once made in a country far away from China.

A sharp object prodded his back as Mai had returned behind him with a projected knife. "If what that woman said was true, then how can I trust you at all? It sounds like you're not friends with anyone, Orso Belvedere. First, you are Assassin's Master. Masters and Servants have a level of personality similarities and bonds greater than just the items used to summon them. Then you lied about being allied with Archer's Master because he's dead, and if you were telling the truth then you let him die on your watch. Saber is also alive; you were wrong about that too. And now, someone who looks like an old acquaintance of yours won't even trust you in the largest battle of the decade. I appreciate your interference, but I don't think I can trust you moving forward." Mai's examination had ended and Orso looked up to the black sky covered with gray clouds, dimly lit by the concealed moon above them. The image brought him back to his time spent in Spain and he couldn't help but feel that maybe it was time to forget those days, as it clearly would do him no favors.

"Sorry, Master of Lancer. I seem to have miscalculated several things over the past couple of days. But I am not a liar, and I hope you remember that." With Orso's words, a puff of smoke rose from the ground and quickly enveloped Orso. It resembled exactly how he appeared before Mai just a day earlier. As soon as the skirmish ended, Mai found herself alone alongside the cicadas who had regained their courage and resumed their chips once again.

Viktor III

Viktor continued his observations of the battlefield prior to Berserker's appearance. Berserker's Master amazed him with her display of physical prowess as she had kept each Servant at bay. It was a decent strategy, Viktor thought. Hold all of the Servants in one spot so they would eventually be forced to fight him, since it was clear that no one intended to indulge in a fight with Berserker after his initial victory over Saber. The issue with this plan was that Berserker couldn't fight them all at once and it couldn't stop the other Servants from a retreat once Berserker picked the one or two to take down.

Yet Viktor could still bring himself back to the war ten years ago and how his own strategy panned out. With Yamato Takeru as Saber at his side, there were no Servants that stood a chance in an all-out brawl. One by one they cut other Servants down: Berserker, Caster, Lancer. Archer followed suit. Viktor attributed his wild success to the experience and knowledge he had obtained from the previous war and the input from his extended family. Although the previous wars might have been defeats, he gained his invaluable skill set as the years tacked on until he finally claimed victory for his family. Alan, who was his final opponent, fell at Viktor's hands. The two had been allied earlier in the war, but upon the realization of Saber's true might, Viktor rolled through the rest of the Servants without him. He left Alan and Assassin behind until the very end as a courtesy to the old alliance, and then delivered a swift defeat to him. Viktor's own magic had surpassed his comrade significantly over the years, which put an even larger eclipse over Alan and the Bach family. After the grail granted Viktor's wish for familial prosperity, the Bach's were merely a footnote as far as the Association was concerned.

Viktor's mind then drifted even further back; back to a war that mostly pained him to remember. Twenty years ago, Viktor's Aunt Rita held the mantle of the family. She had drawn an infamous Archer and the family counted the hours down until their victory, except for their initial encounter with Saber on the first night. The fight lasted hours and left everyone involved expunged of any mana. By the end of that fight, Saber's Master could not deliver the final blow to Viktor - a decision that brought a vague smile to his old face. It was one of the few decisions made back then that brought him a glint of happiness.

"Uncle, there's someone outside the front gate barrier. He's just standing there," one of Viktor's nephews, Kristof, interrupted his softer memories.

Viktor adjusted himself in his seat and removed his mind from the memories. "Is he a mage?"

"Not one we know, at least. He's just standing out there. Waiting." Viktor couldn't keep a focus on both the battle and an intruder, but he knew that whatever battle happened between the rest of the Servants would resolve whether he watched or not. He cancelled his vision spell to address the man outside.

Kristof followed Viktor down the Conrad mansion stairwell to the outside front gate, where Caster's barrier began. "Can I help you?" Viktor asked.

"Viktor and Kristof Conrad. It's a pleasure to meet you both in person. My name is Oliver Storgaard." Oliver paused and waited for a response from the two Conrads.

"Storgaard? Is this Association business?" asked Viktor. Oliver laughed and rolled his left sleeve up to his shoulder. Three command seals blared red on his upper arm in a chaotic fashion; crossed and zagged over each other with hard edges. Kristof took a step back to prepare himself, but Viktor stayed still. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere more important?" Viktor was no fool - he knew that the other Masters were aware of the Conrads' presence as mages and in the Holy Grail War; other Masters would surely imagine someone from his family would partake yet again. However, Oliver had a different agenda.

"I'd like to offer you a proposition. Based on what's happening in the designated area right now, I can assume one of your family members is Caster's Master. Based on how irate Alan Bach was last night, I can safely assume it's you."

"Alan? What about him?"

"He's dead." The words rang Viktor's mind. After Caster lost to Alan and Archer just one day ago, this man claims that Alan has been pushed to the side?

Images from past wars flooded Viktor's mind. He could see Alan on the ground before him, doubled over in emotional pain from their previous bout ten years ago. His brain raced even further back to hear an old comrade scream, _"Viktor!"_ yelled the internal cry, _"Listen to me!"_

"Gah," Viktor winced and he brought a hand to his head.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to cause any internal conflict. If memories are the only wounds you carry from all of these Holy Grail Wars, then you truly are the strongest mage in the world," Oliver added.

"What do you want, Oliver Storgaard?" Kristof asked impatiently.

"Conveniently, all other Servants are at the designated area, including mine. I have confirmation from Rider that Berserker is on his way." Viktor still caressed his temple, but he couldn't grasp what Oliver was trying to say. "I saw Caster's _**Cubic Plane**_ last night when you fought Archer. I think it would be optimal to use a command seal assisted _**Cubic Plane**_ and force all of the Servants to fight Berserker right now. Whether he survives the onslaught or not doesn't matter, it eliminates the rest of the competition. And if Berserker dies, then that's just a bonus."

Viktor closed his eyes and shook his head. "How does this help you? You said your own Servant is in the fray."

"It doesn't. It helps you. If Berserker eliminates all of the other Servants, you can face him while he's weakened by the end of the night. If Berserker dies, then you successfully defeated the strongest Servant in this war without risking your own. From what Rider told me, Berserker is almost at the designated area and you have about 15 seconds before other Servants begin to flee. I'll gladly walk away." Oliver leaned to one side and concealed a smile. He had pleaded his case, but continued to hold back some cards for his own benefit.

Viktor's head pounded, plagued by the decisions he had made in the past. Alliances, enemies, deaths of family and friends alike. He thought back to that old Master of Saber that couldn't kill him twenty years ago, how even against all odds that Master could break out in a smile. _"What would Jun do?"_ Viktor asked himself.

"Sounds like a positive alliance for us, then," Kristof added. Viktor turned his head slightly as he felt Kristof's hand on his shoulder. Kristof knew of Viktor's tendencies to second guess alliances because of the past wars, but this sounded like a clear win for the Conrads. Viktor nodded towards him and conceded the decision. His two command seals burned red as he issued his demand to Caster.


	9. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Berserker's arrival, Qing had been placed in a sealed, static prism. She was visible to everyone on the field, but no interaction could meet her due to Berserker's spell. His appearance darkened with his disgust of the other Servants. Although the point of the war itself was to eliminate all other Mages, Berserker found the treatment of his Master unacceptable.

Lancer II

Lancer peered at the other Servants in the canyon: Assassin was hunched over and ready to launch, Rider slowly pulled herself out from the ground puncture that Berserker's Master had put her in, Saber stood up straight in anticipation. If Archer was out of the game, then Caster was the only member missing. Upon this realization, Lancer foresaw that a looming threat would cover the designated area shortly. If not from Berserker himself, then from Caster. The Servants and Masters had avoided this kind of congregation for a handful of days - this would be the first true all-out brawl of this war.

During Qing's extended chase with Rider, Lancer had marvelled at Berserker's Master. Any mage that sustained stressful enhancement spells over that much time would have pushed their body past their natural limit before her fight with Lancer was over. As soon as Berserker's Master had climbed to her own feet, she began to topple over herself. A logical outcome for someone so unruly - no good could come from such overexertion, Lancer thought. A burst of wind surged from behind Lancer to spare Qing from the impact of the smaller fall. Berserker looked glorious - he emanated power and pulsed a golden aura only he could produce. Lancer had seen nothing like Berserker during life, nor did she expect to meet a spirit at the level of true gods and demons. His stature and appearance certainly declared his True Name, just as Orso Belvedere and Assassin had hinted at in the days prior. The Master had muttered something to Berserker, entirely incoherent, but whatever it was caused Berserker to seal her in his own type of prison. Lancer couldn't help but feel like she had seen this type of magic before, although perhaps much less refined. Berserker had turned to the rest of the cast to issue no guess, no query, and no pause. Instead, the singular promise of, "I will repay this to all of you ten fold."

Berserker's aura pulsed throughout the canyon and deafened any movement or thought. He stood flexed, even though one of his ankles showed a deep gash and blood that trickled down to his heel. If anything, even within the Servants' minds, the only word that could be conceived was "run." Just as Berserker's threat presented itself, a much larger prison encased the canyon immediately. Unlike the jade color of Qing's personal containment, the walls that surrounded the designated area were almost clear with a mirrored effect, straight, and even on all sides.

"Big guy is here. Ugh, time to go," Rider announced from across the battlefield. She attempted to retreat to her dematerialized form, but found herself unable to do so. She tried again, only to continue the struggle.

 _"Mai! Stay away from the canyon! There's a strong spell over us now - don't waste a command seal yet, I'll be fine, but I'll let you know."_ Lancer informed her Master. Mai had sent no response, but as long as she kept her distance, this would be manageable.

"This is modern magic," Saber said out loud, "The exquisite form, the lines, the shape. This is far from old magic. Berserker, this can't be your doing. Caster! Will you reveal yourself?!" Saber's attempts to draw the final Servant out were met with blank stares.

"Doesn't matter. Had you shown yourself to me an hour ago, I would smile at a chance to fight you again, Saber. But now I will put an end to all of your brutish natures and smother your failed regrets and desires into the dust." Berserker ignored the spell above them, moved his right hand, and pulled out a pinch's worth of hairs from his side. _**"Hairs of the King."**_ With a small breath, he blew his hairs into the winds and they fell to the sullen ground. They took root with the soil and began to rise to the height of Berserker, and over time formed seven additional Monkey Kings. The resemblance remained true to their originator - perfect replicas of Berserker as he stepped toward the four onlookers.

Without any additional warning, the clones sped on to the other Servants and unleashed a barrage of staff attacks and swings. Lancer and Saber met the attackers head on, while Assassin and Rider elected to dodge and run around them. Assassin almost looked giddy with excitement, while Rider looked relatively annoyed, although she seemed to have more internal conflicts.

Each Servant had to repel two Berserker's as they abused any possible opening with their broad staves. Lancer and Saber could mount sufficient defenses with the length of their weapons, however, would still take damage to any gaps in their blind spots. Lancer could meet the reckless attacks soundly, as it didn't take long to realize that these clones had only a portion of the original's strength. Even so, it was not wise to give such disrespect to a heroic spirit, Lancer thought.

After enough successful deflections and blocks, along with their own share of bruises returned from the swings of the clones, Lancer and Saber found themselves with their backs to each other. "Lancer, forgive me for using your blind side to compensate for my own shortcomings." As they relied on each other, they continued to fend off their attackers. Lancer's naginata proved to be more than a match at keeping attackers at bay, while Saber had to put more effort into his swings to propel the multiple Berserkers. "Your attacks lack gumption today, Berserker! Although I would agree with you on the mistreatment of your Master, don't underestimate your fellow heroic spirits!" Saber yelled. The four Berserker's that spiraled around Lancer and Saber directed their attention towards him alone as he called, _**"** **Ice-Brook's Temper!** **"**_ _**Die Upon a Kiss.**_ Saber's blade shone with a bright blue, and in less than a blink, his speed dashed through the four clones and pierced their stomachs. The defiled Berserkers fell to the dirt and dematerialized accordingly.

"What incredible speed," Lancer had whispered to herself, out of earshot of Saber now several meters away. Surely her own speed was a fraction of that, and surely that was comparable to Rider class ranked speeds, even if it was for a short moment. His sword resonated with steam after the display - its color warmed up to its original steely frame as Saber shrugged and cracked his neck. Although on the same side for a moment, Lancer did not hesitate to try to figure out Saber's identity. She knew of no blade that went by such a wordy name, nor did the Noble Phantasm reveal anything about Saber's True Name.

As Assassin and Rider continued distancing themselves from the lookalikes, two of the remaining four Berserkers made their way towards Saber and Lancer to keep them preoccupied. "I did not expect you to call your blade so freely, Saber," one of the Berserkers said, "with such a disappointing name, I can't say you've revealed your secrets. All the same, this ends now for us." He pulled his staff back, ready to call the artifact to its enormous size. _**"** **Ruyi Jingu**_ _**\- "**_ he started before he stopped suddenly. His two final clones had been silenced. Rider, who looked incredibly frustrated, gripped her two pistols tightly and snarled towards the other Servants. The clone that was focused on Assassin had suddenly stopped all movement, stiff in stature and incapable of falling. Assassin had not attacked the Berserker lookalike, yet her indescribable mischief caused the clone's injured ankle to corrode massively. Its hairs and skin had all but shriveled to the bone, one pressured shove away from a snap.

Visibly annoyed, Berserker acknowledged his mistake: "perhaps I was too quick to judge you all at once."

"You think we're worth only one eighth of your strength? Come on, stupid Berserker," Rider called out as she ignored their previous discussion several nights prior regarding his naming preferences. The declaration took Lancer aback; clearly this was not the time to anger Berserker any further. "I do all this work. Everyone's in one spot, great. Make them fight each other, sure. Fight a Master? Why not. Don't engage Berserker. Makes sense, Master. I'll do good, Master." Rider cracked her neck and adjusted her shoulder line. "Berserker is here, get me out of here. Oh, okay, just don't respond. Whatever. Your stupid Master drives me through the stupid mountain then you try some stupid tactic to end this. You're not as strong as you think you are, Berserker. I'll take care of you myself. _**Electra!**_ "

Erica III

_"Saber? Saber, can you hear me?"_ Erica could not connect with Saber. She had established a vantage point from a landing on the side of one of the mountains outside of the new spell keeping all of the Servants in place. _**"** **Ice Bolt."**_ Erica fired a glint of ice towards the translucent cage, only to see it disintegrate upon impact. She figured that although Saber should be able to hold his own, with the final addition of Berserker, the situation became more dire than she originally planned. As she lost herself in her critical thoughts on the see-through cage, Caitlin had returned from her scuffle in the forest. She seemed to be out of breath, yet eerily sullen. "Some good news, some bad news. Good news is, Saber told me that Archer's Master is dead. Bad news is I can't seem to contact him any more. I might use a Command Seal in a bit if it looks like he's losing a fight in there. How'd your search go? Find anything?"

Caitlin caught her breath and stood up straight as she put a hand against a nearby tree. "Orso is a Master."

"Oh," Erica replied. In a moment her mind raced through their past relationship, the things Orso had done for both sisters and Caitlin's true feelings on the matter. "Are you okay with that?"

"Of course not! But he makes me so mad, springing that on me in the middle of a fight."

"A fight?"

"I had Lancer's Master literally, _literally_ in the palm of my hand before he _stopped_ me. Apparently they were in some sort of truce before tonight. She ended up getting away."

Erica turned her head towards the ground and closed her eyes with a sigh. "And Orso?"

Caitlin returned a frown and concluded, "I'm sorry. I couldn't." The two sisters were silent for a moment, both minds on Orso, their friendship, and whether or not they could continue with their goal while someone close to them would be caught in the crossfire.

"I'm not going to make you do it," Erica added.

"No, I can if I have to. I need to if I have to!"

"Caitlin...I don't think either of us could. The best case scenario is so messed up. At best, some other Master or Servant kills him so we don't have to." There was a slight pause between the words before she started again. "It's either him or me by the end of all of this. Do you understand what that means?"

"Of course I understand, Erica! Don't you think for a second that I'm not all in on this!" The two's eyes stayed on each other as they waited for the other to breathe. "I just wanted to make sure you knew. I'm going back out." Erica's thin eyebrows curled upward to unwillingly show sympathy for Caitlin's distress. Without another word, Caitlin disappeared in the opposite direction that she came in, whether intentional or not.

Erica turned back towards the intricate prison. She tried to imagine an outcome where Orso could work alongside them. Erica knew that Orso would do almost anything for the Weiss sisters, however, Erica was well aware of what Orso's goals were for the Holy Grail. Long ago in their hometown of Birmingham, Erica remembered what Orso had said after their fathers had failed to return home after their own Holy Grail War. It was truly a noble wish - but it was also one crafted from the minds of a trio of five year old children. No more wars. Erica closed her eyes and laughed with an innocent smile. She tried to pretend it was ironic - to fight in a war to stop all future wars. But the more she remembered his words, the more she felt hurt by her own desires. Her and Caitlin were so selfish to wish back three family members when millions more people would die by the end of real wars. Real political gambits made by the world's leaders that impacted those whose feet crossed opposed country lines. A different kind of war than the spectacle she was a part of now; yet somehow entirely more gruesome. Even with Orso's affection for the sisters, he would not put aside his much larger goal for the singular Weiss family. It was irresponsible. It was irrational. But even so, how could the sisters turn away the chance to feel the warmth of their mother's arms again? To have their father pat their heads simultaneously when they caused trouble? To have their brother take them to fish outside of Lancashire every summer when he came home from the Academy?

As she lost herself in her own thoughts, she found it was too difficult to weigh the desires of seven Masters against each other, let alone the wishes of the other billions of people on the planet.

Viktor IV

From his safety, Viktor continued to watch the fray unfold. Caster stood behind him and continued to silently judge the decision to stay away, or rather, the decision to spend a command seal to keep other Servants away from them. Even after injury, Caster seemed preferred to engage instead of watch. Viktor's _**Overarching Eye**_ recalled its original role to keep tabs on the trapped Servants. Viktor strained his eye to focus even harder on the calamity that was bound to ensue within the combatants' space.

"Fireworks weapons? You put the hole in her side then, Rider?!" Berserker replied to Rider's challenge. Berserker's nostrils flared as he pushed out a coarse breath. He grasped his staff tightly and made his knuckles white as he lunged towards her. He wasn't fast enough to reach her, as she had boarded her mount and took to the air inside of their magical cage. The _**Cubic Plane**_ reached outwards and upwards a square half kilometer, so she had minimal airspace to maneuver, and certainly less than she preferred. All the same, she utilized her airplane's speed and distance to make tight dashes up and down as she fired continuous shots aimed at Berserker's damaged ankle.

Berserker did not take kindly to the barrage of attacks aimed at his injury. With so many shots directed towards him at such intense, tight direction changes, even his legendary reaction time was limited. After a bullet lodged itself into Berserker's calf and another grazed his side, he winced, and decided Rider had earned his full attention. "Such cowardice, Rider! I won't let you do as you please from the skies! _**Ruyi Jingu Bang**_ _ **!**_ " Much like his fight with Saber, Berserker's staff extended and expanded several times its original size as he began to push it across the base of the canyon.

The brightness again blinded Viktor for a moment, but he kept the spell active as he was prepared for the initial shock. "Gah," he sounded as he gripped the table in front of him.

"Master, should we not be fighting as well?" asked Caster. Viktor returned a stoic response and remained vigilant in regards to Oliver's plan.

"No. We spent a command seal on this to let Berserker wipe everyone out. If there was ever a, ugh, time to wait, it would be now. We're seeing this through to the end. It's just Berserker and Rider fighting at the moment, though."

"What about the other Servants?" Caster tapped a foot, almost anxious in the suspense of the fight.

"Saber and Lancer are mindful of the barrier. They're off in opposite corners of the _**Cubic Plane**_ , I lost track of Assassin a while ago thanks to her Concealment. I imagine they're okay with Rider and Berserker fighting each other while the attention is off of them for now. It doesn't matter. As long as your spell stands, only one will remain by the end of it. Besides, I sent Kristof there to observe the situation outside of the _**Cubic Plane**_. If he comes across another Master, I'm confident he could handle them." Viktor smirked a little and took solace in the sight that Oliver's plan might work out after all.

Berserker's gusts of wind from his staff barrelled across the canyon - left, right, below, each swing put Rider's Noble Phantasm into turmoil. Although Rider remained confident in her mount, winds from another legendary weapon were not to be trifled with. However, this overconfidence did her no favors, as the confinement of Caster's spell met the airplane's wings too frequently. Sparks of electricity surged through the plane to cause Rider to unwillingly dismount.

"Your steed has failed you. Your Master has failed you. And you have failed yourself. _**Fire Spiral!**_ " Berserker cast. A tornado of flames spun below where Rider landed and kept her confined. The flames seared and burned her leather armor pieces as she leaped above the spiral as fast as she could. Rider's jump took her to the top of the _**Cubic Plane**_ , and as the heel of her foot landed on the underside of the top of their cage, sparks shot through her legs in a similar fashion to her airplane. The electricity caused her calves to spasm, yet all the same, she launched herself towards Berserker's elongated staff at an incredible speed. Rider spun, legs numbed, and drew out a concealed knife behind one of her shin guards. With her speed, she plunged the knife into Berserker's upper chest, but not without a counter play from Berserker. _**"** **Ruyi Jingu Bang!** **"**_ He quickly called his staff and thinned it to the consistency of a blade, small enough to pierce Rider herself, but wide enough to cause critical damage to her organs. Both coughed a consistent amount of blood onto each other, but only Berserker broke a smile. "You missed, Rider. About three inches off. Good riddance."

Rider closed her eyes, dissatisfied with her loss, angry at her Master for not using a Command Seal, and upset that she knew this was probably her own Master's plan from the start. How pitiful, she thought, that even in death, even after she fought back as hard as she could, she still came up short of her own expectations. Without another chance to speak, she faded away into the windless prison orchestrated by her own Master.

"Oliver's plan is working, Caster. Although I find it ironic that Rider was the first to go. Oliver helped us plan this probably hoping the other Servants would ban together," Victor said. He breathed easy, happy in that maybe there's a chance Berserker really would be susceptible to an attack after this is done. "I made some mistakes in my first Holy Grail War too, though. I understand the sentiment," he said as he remembered Jun's stance on blind trust. So many mistakes, so much patience.

Spirits were high in the Conrad estate until Viktor saw a silhouette of someone that shouldn't have been on the battlefield at all.


	10. Chapter IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to Viktor's dismay, Archer was still alive. Viktor knew from first hand experience that Archer class Servants could survive for three days without a mana source - he should have made sure that Oliver confirmed Archer's death alongside Alan's, not only dematerialization. A mistake that a rookie would make, but Viktor could not wrap his troubled mind around the situation at the time. Instead, Archer looked to use the remainder of his mana for his allies.

Archer V

Archer materialized above the _**Cubic Plane**_ , just below the vision of Viktor's _**Overarching Eye**_. As his feet contracted the static of the cube, he pulled an arrow and shot it upward into the sight spell to force Viktor to cancel his vision of the battle below. Archer remembered from the first night, when Berserker called his Noble Phantasm, the mage had to cancel the spell to avoid blindness. It must have had physical properties, thus needed to be ignored for it to be effective. Archer's surmise proved correct.

"Berserker. Too strong," he whispered out loud. "Too dangerous." Berserker below had not noticed Archer's materialization, but instead dashed around the prison in chase of Lancer and Saber. "Maybe it's okay. My Master is gone and I only have one day of mana left after tonight. This is the best I can do for Assassin while I can still honor our alliance. I suppose." Archer held a hand out as he looked downward towards Berserker in the prison and remembered how he learned this spell; from the realm of the dead itself, forbidden for any use under any circumstance, or so the prophet Tiresias taught him.

 _"This is the final call,"_ he started. The words echoed through the canyon and a green spell circle extended below him as it covered a significant area on the ceiling. The chant did catch the attention of Berserker, as well as the eyes of the Masters around the prison.

 _"For the path of your fall,"_ chains whipped up from the green casting symbol beneath him that gripped and tightened around Archer's limbs. They snapped to the roof of Caster's spell and contracted their own plethora of sparks which further immobilized Archer. From here, Berserker sent a couple of fireballs towards Archer but they did not penetrate the _**Cubic Plane**_. Before much longer, Archer lowered his hand and dispersed the spell. He made an audible snap with his tongue and murmured, "not enough mana to finish it." The multiplicative sparks from the disappeared chains grounded themselves to Archer's body and thrusted him away into the mountainside adjacent to the _**Cubic Plane**_. With dust kicked up around him and a tree trunk that sustained the heavy impact, Archer groaned and pulled himself up to the base of the tree, prepared to retreat to his non-corporeal form and spend his remaining day of mana from afar.

"That's for the best, perhaps. Trying to use that spell was a rash decision anyway. Keep waiting for me, Penelope. I can still join you someday. Even in death, the winds feel like they are against me. Oh how I wish I could have saved Achilles from his fate. How I wish I could have honored Ajax after his death. But you know what I would wish for before all of that if I had won? I wish I had our time back. I wish those years spent roaming the seas and time in captivity were spent by your side. I wish I never angered Poseidon after Troy. I wish my homecoming were faster. I could wish for so many things, but I only wish I had more time."

Archer watched the Servants trade blows within the modern spell-prison for several minutes before he heard a rustle amongst the leaves behind him. Hopefully not an innocent, he thought, as even in his final day he would still be obligated to conceal the war from the outside world. Preferably a Master, he thought, to end this run of his. Or maybe he could take one out for Assassin. Either way would be nice, perhaps, he pondered. A girl emerged with an outstretched hand, prepared to fire a bolt at whatever laid behind the tree. "The latter, I suppose," Archer said out loud. He examined her aura, cold but exuberant, tough but open, cautious yet prepared. "Miss Master, we can fight if you'd like, but I imagine your time would be better spent on getting your Servant away from Berserker." Archer put a hand on his neck and pulled himself up with the help of a lowly hung branch.

"I'm not a Master," Caitlin said, prepared to defend herself. Her circuits pulsed to the tips of her long fingers up to the underside of her tailored nail beds. Flashes of light pulsed from inside of the _**Cubic Plane**_ , but Caitlin knew better than to drop her attention when an opponent locked eyes.

"Oh," replied Archer as he searched his thoughts for a proper action with the situation amplifying across from them. Not a Master, but not an innocent. The lines blurred in his head about what to do. Honor his pact with Assassin, let her live, is there a difference? What is just? "Support, then. Still a threat to Assassin at the end of the day."

"Assassin...?" Caitlin paused and loosened her arm in disbelief. "Orso..." Archer relaxed his shoulders, tilted his head, and put a couple of pieces together.

"If you're aligned with Assassin's Master, then I have no cause to kill you. But on the other hand, I suppose you would have known he was working with my Master had you actually been his ally." Caitlin's mind raced - who was left that Orso could work with? Not Lancer's Master due to the conflict earlier. Not Berserker's Master who was in stasis in the prison. Caster's? Rider's? Either way, she confirmed this was a Servant and that this battle might not be winnable by herself alone.

"That incantation earlier," Caitlin started in an attempt to buy some time and some information, "It came from you. You must be Caster class. I might just be able to hold my own against you, you know." Acher smiled, if only slightly, in her attempt. It sounded like a statement he might have heard a millennia ago from someone much closer to him in a gesture of banter. He accidentally let out a slight chuckle. "Wh...what's so funny?"

"My apologies - that just reminded me of my wife. I'll give you one more chance. Are you with Assassin's Master or not? I won't effortlessly give you any information about my class." Caitlin waited. Just an hour ago she could barely comprehend the fact that Orso was in this war as well. Now she had to decide, away from both him and Erica, what they were going to do. How valuable was Orso to her? How hurt was she, really, since Madrid all those years ago? Was it finally time to forgive him when all of their lives were on the line? Archer noticed the gears struggle to turn in Caitlin's head and the strain it brought about on her temporal veins. "That should be an easy question for most people in this war, I thought. You, however, are not a yes, but far from no. I understand, Miss Support. You may not believe me, but I do understand. I would hate to be on the fence about this and betray Assassin's Master's better judgement. After all, I'm not even - " as Archer trailed off on his thoughts, more bright flashes of light came from inside of the _**Cubic Plane**_.

"Caitlin!" shouted a voice from behind her. She didn't need to turn her head as she knew her own sister's voice, and kept her arm steady. Erica caught up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Time to go!"

"Servant," Caitlin sullenly said. Erica looked up and saw the loosened Servant lean against the tree that he hadn't moved away from since the barrier had flung him there.

"We don't have time! I've already called Saber back. Have you looked inside of that barrier in the past five minutes?!" Pulsations then came from the prison, shock wave after shock wave of intensity that flung dead leaves into the distance.

"Well...no, I've been dealing with this Servant. He's somehow aligned with - "

"It doesn't matter, we need to _go!_ " Without another question of delay, the two women pushed as much magical energy into their legs and dashed back through the foliage away from Archer and the designated area.

Archer let out a sigh and laughed some more. "Lucky," he said out loud. "I definitely don't have enough mana to take on both of those mages at once." He retreated to his dematerialized form as light, mist, and electricity began to encapsulate the designated area, far beyond the reach of the _**Cubic Plane**_.

Lancer III

Berserker spat a glob of blood over the disintegrating Rider. The dagger she had implanted into his chest also faded away once her body had disappeared fully. Only a gash about three inches long remained. He flexed his chest muscle twice to see how much it would impede him, and Berserker decided it was best to ignore the wound as the blood trickled down onto his tunic. "Who's next?!" he yelled into the _**Cubic Plane**_. "Saber?! Where are you?!" Berserker began to dash through the prison, swinging his staff across rows of shrubbery, and knocking down any trees that were in his way. He knew Assassin would be impossible to find in this space, so it was time to eliminate either Saber or Lancer. It didn't matter to him. He was still mad on adrenaline and disgust from how these Servants treated his Master.

 _ **"** This is the final call."_ Berserker had heard the bellow from above.

"Archer?! Not who I was expecting, but fine by me! _**Fire Bolt!**_ " he yelled angrily as he sent three fireballs to the roof of the barrier. All three disintegrated below Archer's feet as a brightened green spell circle dwarfed them in size. "What kind of spell has a magus circle that big? Come fight me, Archer!" Before Berserker could see the results of Archer's spell, Archer had already retreated and cancelled his incantation. "Yet another one of you run away! How disgraceful! Curse your lands! The whole lot of you!"

With that final jest, Lancer stepped away from a back corner of the prison. She held her head down, perhaps in hopes that the barrier would subside and she could retreat with Mai. With her naginata in hand, she paced her way towards the front of Berserker, almost sullen with a tinge of remembrance outside of her eyes. "You are right, Wukong. I would be a liar if I said you did not frighten me. Your legends preceed you. Your feats are astonishing. Your magecraft, physical prowess, your Noble Phantasm. All of which are eons beyond me."

"Praise me more, Lancer!" Berserker laughed to himself.

"But in light of all of that, I can take the criticism. You can call me honorless, I don't care. You can say I'm a coward - that might even be true. I've been called worse." Berserker tilted his head, confused at the point Lancer was trying to reach. "But you, nor any spirit, has a right to judge the land I come from." Lancer readied herself and bent her knees for impact. She apologised silently to Mai, as if this was one thing that Lancer refused to ignore; the prejudice against her people, aged and dead or modern and living.

"Your pride betrays you then, Lancer!" Berserker leapt towards her and slammed his staff down on the hilt of her spear. Lancer deflected multiple blows and turns from Berserker in a strong attempt to delay his attacks but found no opening for a strike herself. Her close quarters combat was much more elegant than Berserker's, but lacked the finality that came from Berserker's full bodied swings. The two pushed themselves away from one another as Lancer prepared for another barrage. Berserker's next attempt at an attack was met by Lancer's blade and caused a burst of white light to fill the _**Cubic Plane**_. A pulse of energy pushed even the hidden Saber and Assassin back several meters in the clash's wake. "How interesting, Lancer! Your spear was forged by _gods_?!" Lancer frowned and braced herself yet again, not ready to divulge any hints about her Noble Phantasm. Berserker planted his staff upright in the soil below them and continued his insight. "When two holy weapons clash, bystanders are sure to be blown away. So what is it, then? Gungnir? Vel? Their wielders are the gods themselves, not heroic spirits. There's not that many holy spears that can clash with my staff. Who are you, Lancer?"

 _ **"** **First Harvest!"**_ Lancer took advantage of Berserker's disbelief and rushed at him while he was in thought. Her spell amplified her speed as she reached him before he could pick his staff back up. Her swings turned into stabs and forced Berserker to dodge in specific and new ways. Surely if Lancer's blade was of holy descent, then Berserker did not want to test its capabilities if it were to cut him. But Lancer's sudden shift from defense to offense combined with the speed increase proved formidable, as the legendary blade landed many cuts and a gash across Berserker's left arm.

Berserker had backed himself towards Qing's stasis coffin, as she had not been moved since Berserker called the spell. He grabbed the base of the prism and swung the body length object in Lancer's direction. The size of the blunt prism took Lancer by surprise as she took the full force of the solid spell. Lancer flew to the side of the _**Cubic Plane**_ and contracted her own electrical shocks as Rider had done earlier. Qing remained unmoved in the _**Jeweled Lotus Enlightenment**_ as Berserker rushed to reclaim his invaluable staff. "No curse on this gash, no imbued spells, it's a naginata so it's at least eastern. You're giving me more hints by the second, Lan - " before Berserker could finish his statements, Lancer had returned to his face, still in full assault. Her spear crashed against Berserker's staff as the two holy weapons tossed light and pulses throughout Caster's cage. One flash after another pushed the boundaries of what the _**Cubic Plane**_ could withstand. Without a Command Seal's power, it would have broken long ago.

The two Servants did not continue their exchange unscathed. Lancer had taken significant staff blows to her rib cage, as well as the loss of feeling in her lower back from the shocks of the _**Cubic Plane**_. Blood trickled down her forehead from the loose strands of her black hair. Her bun had become slightly undone and had started to fray. Berserker sported his wound from Rider, still open and slowly bleeding. His arm wounds from Lancer's stabs had stopped their bleeds as they were much shallower. After another bright clash of holy weapons, the two succumbed to the pulse and the weapons flung their wielders back several meters.

"You're tired?" Berserker started with a huff of his own. "You were the first to raise your blade against my Master – I expect nothing less than this fight to end in your death. Saber! I hope you're watching, because you're next!" Lancer paused. She knew Berserker's reputation – he talked too much. He had yet to call his Noble Phantasm again after he eliminated Rider. Perhaps, she thought, his mana flow from his Master had been put in stasis like she was. If so, then Lancer was prepared to end the fight. If not, she'd be met with a difficult situation. Either way, the barrier around them was not about to let up, and with her wounds she knew she could not fight both Saber and Assassin even if she defeated Berserker beforehand. She stood up straight and pointed her spear towards Berserker. It began to glow and its gems along its backside gleamed with a cerulean intensity. "Yes! Tell me, Lancer! Say it!" Berserker continued to bluff. The ground around the Servants began to shake, trees cracked and clay moved over the ground. The quake's low magnitude was in direct relationship to the shine of Lancer's spear, it increased slightly as she raised the tip of the blade up towards the air as she lightly called its name.

 _**"** **Amenonuhoko**_ _**." Floating Bridge of Heaven.** _

"You're a liar, Lancer!" Berserker staved. His opinion did not matter, as the quake amplified. Her naginata pulsed brighter with every second and shook the area around them. The ground beneath them motioned against the _**Cubic Plane**_ as electric fractures shot out from its base. The inside of the barrier was a calamity – remaining trees fell, the cliff sides split downward, the walls of the prison wavered. Electricity bounced from wall to wall of the half kilometer prison. Boulders below the cliffs erupted and shoved themselves upward in all directions. Berserker dodged the imminent gravestones, but the other Servants' Masters did not plan on testing the extent of Lancer's weapon. Saber had been summoned away by the power of a Command Seal the moment Lancer called her weapon. Orso followed suit with Assassin after he realized there was nothing further to gain from the exchange. Only Berserker had to face the threat head on.

A thick mist spewed out from below Lancer as the quakes continued, more intense with every moment. Berserker had tried to leap towards Lancer to stop the land shifting madness, only to be blindsided by a boulder from across the encapsulated canyon. Regardless of his attempts to close the gap between him and Lancer, there was a consistent deterrent that prevented a clash with the legendary weapon. The grasses crumpled, the dust in the air filled Berserker's lungs, and the quakes showed no dismissal. The land beneath them had shifted significantly since their bout began and pressed an enormous strain against the _**Cubic Plane**_. The walls no longer kept their pristine shape. They wavered, corroded, warped, and ultimately shattered inward. The electrical storm from the disrupted spell combined with the earthquake beneath the Servants and ran its course through both of them. They were no longer sparks, but entire kilometers worth of horizontal lightning that pounded throughout the canyon that dismantled any organic tissue it touched.

The pain of the broken spell forced Lancer to stop her Noble Phantasm from affecting the landscape, and neither Servant could stand on their own. The proud Servant fell to a single knee, wounds on his arms, ankle, chest - now finally out of breath. Out of mana. Out of time. He turned to his Master, still secure in her _**Jeweled Lotus Enlightenment**_. With one ounce of strength, he wobbled over to her, while a grounded Lancer that could barely lift her own head up gazed at the slow movement across the dirt.

Berserker fell onto her opaque prism, arm draped over the end as he scribbled an insignia onto the cage. It slowly dissipated into the dusty morning air as it laid Qing onto the disturbed ground beneath her. Qing's eyes rolled open, as she resumed her heavy breaths from when Berserker first put her in stasis.

"Wukong...what happened..." Qing asked.

"I'm sorry, Master..." he added. "It looks like I...misjudged yet again. Always underestimating, huh?" In an aggravated and abrupt cough, Berserker vomited his fluids into the dirt. With Qing out of stasis, he felt the mana connection surge back through his veins, even though there wasn't much to get back. "I, huh, I don't enjoy recommending this, but perhaps a retreat would be nice. Doesn't look like, pah, anyone is, hah, interested in fighting any more tonight." Qing could barely feel her arm thanks to Assassin's poison, so if Berserker had any strength remaining, then living to fight another day was their only chance. She nodded, and Berserker painfully draped her over his shoulder, and slowly moved north of the canyon, away from the city of Luoyang.

Lancer's paralysis caused her to wince continually until she could garner enough strength to retreat to her immaterial form.


	11. Fate/Yesterday II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final look into the sagas that set forth the motions of the current Holy Grail War. Decisions, betrayals, pain, death - all constructs that impacted the participants in ways that they felt were unimaginable. For some, they were doing what they were told. For others, the choices they made are what altered their relationships for the rest of not only their lives, but for generations after them.

Five Years Ago

  
Orso woke up too early - four in the morning. The Spanish sun hadn't begun to breach the horizon in Caitlin's window, but its rays did poke out from beyond the Plaza Mayor. He turned to her, curled in bed. This was the most peaceful he had seen her since before, well, never, he thought. There had never been a time in their lives where he had seen an easy face on her. Her entire family had perished in those Holy Grail Wars, yet the sisters kept their heads up. He admired her more than she could imagine, and hoped that they could make some kind of life together. Maybe.

Probably not.

"Hmphn, unph, Orso?" Caitlin started. "Come back to sleep. Sun's not even up yet."

"Sorry, I was just making us coffee. What do you want to do today?"

"Unnh," Caitlin rolled over and pulled a significant portion of blanket to her side as her face hit the cold half of her pillow. "Maybe..." she started as she trailed off. Orso smiled, relished the moment, and climbed back to her side.

The two continued Caitlin's vacation steadily, stress dissipated with every step the two shared. Not a day went by without a phone call to Erica to explain the features Caitlin saw. Although Erica was happy for her sister's vacation, the jealousy did poke its head out occasionally, which sparked an impromptu laugh from Orso. For too long these sisters had experienced trauma. It was a relief to see at least a hindrance of happiness, however short lived.

Orso couldn't stave off the constant thought of his current mission. It had nothing to do with Caitlin or Erica, yet all the same, existed for their protection. Undercover work was never preferred by any mage in the Association, but all mages understood the importance of infiltration and necessity of dismantling insurgent groups. Spain, France, China, Australia - no country was safe from rogue mages in any capacity. If not mages, then terrorist organizations that could cripple a country's infrastructure if they had enough power behind them.

All the same, Orso had yet to be called. He knew the mission was on the horizon, but he could relish in the precious time off with the woman he loved until it was time. Undercover work, by definition, had to be done in secret. The Association understood this was no easy task, thus allowed agents to divulge that they were going to be unavailable to loved ones, but of course couldn't expunge any information regarding their assignment. Surely Cailtin would understand. Surely he could tell her. But this was work. She had no interest in work right now - not in the slightest. Perhaps when this vacation was over, she could understand. Or perhaps he was just scared. Scared of the possibility that he might not come back to her.

As the final day of her leave approached, Orso found himself waking up too early again. His unease was maximized. Each new morning he didn't know if he was about to be sent halfway across the planet to eliminate some existential threat over the course of a couple of days, months, years; no one knew his time table. Just one more day alone, he thought. One more day with her. Although he had been saying that for the duration of her stay. The sun had yet to poke through Caitlin's window when his phone glared in his hand.

"It's time. Go to Point One." He heard his heart crash. Not for the mission - that he could handle. He turned to his blissfully ignorant partner as she stayed curled in bed as she had been every morning.

"Can I have a couple more hours? Just a little longer," he whispered his plea.

"They're moving, the window is five minutes." His call ended. Although he wished he had more time, he already knew. His shoes were on every morning before dawn sprung. He was ready for the mission before any day out with Caitlin. He had to be. Surely she would understand. She would do it too if it was asked of her.

"Hmphn, unph, Orso?" Caitlin started. "Come back to sleep. Sun's not even up yet." She rolled over and smelled the coffee he had made as it steamed out on the window sill. "Orso?" She sat up only to find an empty room.

Ten Years Ago

After winning the Holy Grail, Viktor issued a command seal to force Saber to step aside as Viktor made his wish: rebuild the family he had lost from ten years prior. He had no intention of dishonoring his family members - to bring them back from the dead after the glory and dedication they put into the war would have been disrespectful. His Aunt Rita would have spun his head around eight times in response to such a distasteful resurrection. The wish was to grant the Conrad family with familial prosperity that had yet to be seen in the magus world. The Holy Grail did not disappoint.

Over the next several years, the few remaining Conrad's were blessed with healthy relationships, positive mental fortitude, and invariably strong descendants. Viktor would go on to take a seat at The Clock Tower as a professor, and his nephew Kristof became an invaluable researcher for the Association.

Viktor's children had stayed out of the past two wars, and thus blessed Viktor with numerous grandchildren, all of which started to grow healthily and under entirely happy circumstances. With every new grandchild he could feel the magical energy of the Holy Grail radiate out of them. Surely this was what he truly desired: the strongest family legacy that would never falter in the face of oppression. Not again.

Viktor took solace in what Jun had told him. He felt he had done his friend justice in his request and finally thought he understood what Jun had asked of him. It always nagged at the back of his mind, however, that Viktor could move on with his life as he pleased while others who fought so diligently had to perish. With his family secured in wealth, power, and now prosperity, Viktor decided on a new goal. Something Jun would be even more proud of. The same prosperity for the rest of the world.

Fifteen Years Ago

With new power in his veins, Oliver sought answers. He knew nothing of magic or how to use it, but he could feel...something. When he tensed his muscles he could see his family crest glare beneath his skin, he could see a single circuit pulse down his forearm, he could see particles lash out into the air, way too similar to whoever had destroyed his life that night. He had since put his life on hold and through bountiful amounts of research and investigation, he was face to face with The Clock Tower - the Mages' Association headquarters. With the little amount of answers he had, he discovered magic had somehow become real but was entirely unaware of how to utilize it.

He knew what he had, but not what he was. He understood very little of his bloodline, magic traits, or what the grand scheme of it all meant. He had only learned that there was this terrifying power in the world, a power that gave it life and meaning but also wrought devastation, destruction, and depression for those who had a hand in it. It was a power that fueled at least his mother's family, and that his parents had done something to prompt a magical assassination of their family.

The Clock Tower gave him no additional answers. Not a single representative had heard of the Storgaard name, nor was the Storgaard family in the records of magical families, which he believed might have been the point. There was an organized attack against his home and surely there were answers somewhere. But Oliver knew he would gain nothing from the folks who meant nothing to him. With a bitter end, he returned to his parents' home, still damaged from the attack, labeled as a "landslide" for the media, with the slightest hope to find clues after searching for answers on his own.

There were no books. No basements. No hidden scrolls. Just two dark, stained ovals on the ground.

If there were no answers, he thought, then perhaps he could move on. Forget the whole tragedy. Find a wife, start a family, finish his degree. The magic could amount to nothing and that would be fine. But his mother didn't die with her hand on his arm for nothing. Could that excruciatingly painful night when he vomited more times than he could count, when his muscles tore endlessly and he couldn't move for a whole day afterward, and when he saw the last blink of light fade from his mother's eyes, possibly mean nothing?

No. He would not fade away into the mediocrity of the world now that he was made painfully aware of what was in it. Instead, he would learn, by all means necessary. Perhaps his mother's original goal might have been to lead a life of mediocrity, but not his now. The moment his mother resolved to keep the crest alive was the moment he had to accept this responsibility. Learn and adapt to the circumstances, Oliver thought. Someone did this to his family, someone forced this to happen to him, and he was going to make sure that any mage that walked in front of his path would pay the price for it. Ultimately, for Oliver Storgaard, the reason for his family's death was that there are simply too many mages in the world. And because of their existence, it was something he could not forgive.

Twenty Years Ago

The frozen waste proved a difficult battleground, but the Conrads had experience with using their magic in the heart of Siberia. If anything, Canada felt like a home field advantage for the family. Jun couldn't say much of the same, but he and Saber knew they would be formidable against the opposition.

The battle was a massacre. Family members on both sides perished in the snow. The clear Canadian night sky brought a crisp spring to the soldiers' lungs as they stained the powder crimson. Explosions of magical energy tore limbs off of bodies, concussions and hemorrhages became frequent, and eardrums popped from the noises. Servants clashed with epic blazes and blasts of power - holy weapons and legendary blades alike forced a calamity around the mages that vied for their chosen Master to win the coveted prize for themselves.

Hours of magecraft, weapons, and blood seeped into the ground as Viktor looked up to see the souls of Conrad cousins leave the battlefield. Opposition lives faded just as much. Servants faded, others bled as much as the Masters that commanded them. He had fought as much as he could, but even he had taken to the knee. He was finally out of mana - no more bots or spells for him to cast. He had nothing left to give to the cause. The rest of the scene was behind him as Rita had tasked his team to break the enemy lines. He turned around and scanned the field for his Aunt - he could not find her. He looked for Saber or Archer - he could not find them. He did not look for Jun. Jun was out of breath from the skirmish, readily an active participant to make his claim on the Grail, until he saw Viktor spent on the opposite side of a snow drift.

"Viktor!" Jun yelled upon his approach as an explosion blasted snow towards them. He dashed down into the snowbank next to him to prop Viktor's head up. "We need to get you away from this place, this battle is done."

"No! Arhuck, guh. We're still here, Jun!"

"All sides are gone, we're one of the few left out here. Your family..." Jun paused.

"I can still try, Rita can bring them back. Family first, Jun!"

"Stand up, you fool." Jun yanked on Viktor's arm to bring him to his feet as the Holy Grail glimmered in the dark distance. Snow stopped falling. The cold air froze in place. They could hear the wish made reverberate across the tundra.

"They're all dead! I wish to kill them all! Everyone on the planet, all over again, forever! Total anarchy! Hya! Hya hya hya!" yelled Assassin, the insane anarchist presidential assassin, Leon Czolgosz. The Grail burst with yellow and bellowed across the landscape. The wind that had stalled forced itself outward into Jun and Viktor's faces along with a few survivors of both sides.

"Assassin got to the grail before his Master did?!" yelled Viktor.

"Ugh, more likely, stabbed him in the back at the last second."

"Send Saber in! Where's Rita? Archer?!" Jun knew there wasn't time anymore. Every second mattered as his heart pounded faster and faster. He now knew what the result of tonight would be.

"They're all gone! You heard Assassin, Viktor!" Jun let go of Viktor's arm as the two could see Assassin murdering the remaining mages on the battlefield with ease, Conrad and opposition alike. "It's over now."

"This is...this is it then...hah."

Jun blinked. He stared at the snow kicked up with every dash from Assassin to the remaining forces, Conrad or otherwise. One at a time. From here, west of Canada. Alaska. Russia. Then Japan. Europe. There would be no end. With the Grail's power, Assassin was truly unstoppable. He knew. But even then, he wasn't even thinking about the rest of the world. Courage, he thought. A fine wish, he thought. It was all for his family, even if it was shrouded for the world. One heartbeat at a time. Not many left. The finale had changed.

"Viktor..." Jun started as he walked in front of him, unable to stare into his eyes one final time. "Your Aunt and I disagreed on a lot of things, but I know her values were right. She was wrong about one thing, though. It's not family first." Jun heard a vague 'what' come from under Viktor's breath. "It's not first. Or second. Or anything else. It's always, Viktor. When Assassin made that wish...even now I'm standing here selfishly. In fact, I have been from the beginning. It's always. Never forget that, please. For me." Viktor, confused, reached out to put a hand on Jun's shoulder, but before he could, these words echoed across the tundra:

_"This is the final call."_


	12. Chapter X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the largest Servant battle thus far, the Masters reconvene with their supports to address their transgressions, their histories, and what's to come. A strong Chinese sun pushed the mist that lingered from the night prior away and the morning dew clung to what still remained of the canyon north of Luoyang. The devastation that transpired the night before surely would have confused passerbys had they seen it in its original state.

Oliver III

Oliver sat in the study of the unnecessarily large penthouse and pondered his options. Rider's death wasn't exactly fortunate, but he was one step closer towards his objective. All the same, he had begun to run out of bargaining chips. He flipped his hand over and peered at his command seals, all unused. Although the events of last night began according to plan, the conclusion had much to be desired. In fact, the conclusion of that battle was probably the worst case scenario at the end of the day. He didn't need Rider - that much he was certain of. At worst, since he eliminated Alan Bach and confirmed Archer's survival, he had always planned on setting up a new contract with Archer if Rider were to falter. Which, Oliver figured, might just be the case.

But even then, Archer couldn't help Oliver reach his goal. The King of Ithaca was certainly a worthy heroic spirit to contend with in battle, but Oliver only had his sights on only one Servant at this point. Since he deduced Caster's True Name as the last magician, there was a single spell in his repertoire that piqued interest. But with one final command seal in Viktor's possession, could Oliver finagle Viktor into using it for his cause?

Not really. Oliver couldn't see another path where Viktor would listen to his gambits. A veteran, powerful family like the Conrads could finish the war with or without Oliver's help. Last night's plea worked out in Oliver's favor slightly, but not by as good of a margin as he had hoped. A new contract with Archer could bring some value to the table for a possible new deal, and perhaps a command seal or two, but Viktor was ultimately the final road block.

Oliver continued to think throughout the morning until a grin hit the corner of his mouth. He stood up, brushed his dress shirt down, and started to head back toward the Conrad estate.

Viktor V

Archer's arrival shocked Viktor - he was so confident in Oliver's information that he didn't pause for a moment to think that Alan would still be alive. Perhaps, he thought, that he was happy Alan had been gone. Viktor knew about the Archer class's passive trait that they could survive up to three days without a mana source depending on how fast they use their reserves, sure. But all the same, he was shocked that Rider had not taken precautions to eliminate him when she had the chance.

Even though Viktor had lost his sight spell, he knew Kristof was in the vicinity and observed the battle as well. Although Viktor's instruction was for Kristof to observe possible mage activity, the young man had a tendency to follow the fights of the familiars instead, always fascinated by the power they held. As the sun rose in the east, Kristof clamored back into the Conrad mansion.

"Uncle! Uncle!" he yelled as he burst through the door. "Archer is alive!"

"We know - I saw that much before I had to - "

"He almost used the..." He continued his pants. "...the spell!"

"I imagine the King of Ithaca knows a lot of spells, Kristof..."

"No!" Viktor raised an eyebrow at his nephew. "He used _the_ spell! The spell you warned us about!" Viktor's head rang. He had gone from calm and calculated to emotional and nervous in a matter of milliseconds. His mind raced, pounded, and pained him.

"Did...he finish it? Tell me, Kristof, please. Tell me everything."

"He started...he started it, but then cancelled it." Kristof swallowed what was left in his mouth, the air dried his tongue entirely and he desperately needed to rehydrate. "I lost him after that...in the canyon." He sighed as he ended his small report.

"Did it look like how I told you it would? Did you see the chains?"

"Yes! Yes, hah, it was exactly how I thought it would look from your descriptions. The spell circle was huge, maybe a quarter kilometer. At least."

"Caster!" Caster materialized aside Viktor, still armless from two nights before, but visibly upset for different reasons. "We're leaving. Now."

"About time."

"You can't, uncle! The other Masters - Berserker! They're all still out there! Only Rider died in last night's battle!" Kristof pleaded.

"There's no immediate threat. Alan is gone. No one is targeting us. This is important."

"But it's daytime now!"

"I don't care." With that, for the first time in years, Viktor felt like he saw a clear goal in front of him. He took stride out the open door that Kristof fell through and left the confines on their magical barrier.

Erica IV

"What the heck was that, Saber? Did you see anything?" Caitlin quietly pushed out, finally back at their hotel room in Luoyang. Saber materialized with the two to further discuss the scenario.

"Most impressive! Lancer caused that earthquake - the fact that the prison spell I was in would not be disrupted until she called her spear's name tells me that someone, probably Caster since it looked strong in the first place, used a command seal to make it last much longer than normal. But that spear...clearly a blade forged by gods. When it clashed with Berserker's holy staff it caused the primary disruptions. Only weapons of equal divine stature could cause reverberations such as those. How incredibly magnificent," he monologued.

"Not exactly the time to admire them, Saber. We're somehow outclassed here," Caitlin added as she dropped her head.

"Regardless of strength, you must admire the beauty of it all, Caitlin." She sighed as she tried to reel the idea of such powerful Servants in this war. Every day seemed to present a new roadblock for the sisters: Berserker being stronger than everyone else all at once, Orso's involvement, Lancer's Noble Phantasm, and whatever that rogue Servant was up to prior to the end of the night. He's still out there, she figured. "Master, how do you suggest we move?"

Erica's gears turned slowly. She wanted to move but didn't know who or what to move against. She wanted to be honest to Caitlin and avoid Orso for as long as possible, regardless of what Caitlin suggested. But they didn't have any more answers. Berserker missing in action. Lancer missing in action. Where was Caster during the whole night? She had too many questions and not nearly enough answers. "Saber, you relayed to me shortly before that barrier went up that Rider confirmed Archer's death, right?"

"Yes, it was just before Berserker's Master took her on. Also a very impressive fight. She lasted much longer in front of several Servants than any mage I could have imagined. It really was a beautiful night." Caitlin rolled her eyes.

"Let's write it all down here," Erica grabbed the small, complimentary hotel notepad and the oddly shaped pen alongside it. She had torn off seven pieces of paper and began to scribble Servants on them. "Rider is gone, that's a fact, I could see Berserker kill her through the barrier. She said she killed Archer, and although we can't trust an enemy's statement at all, let's take it for face value." Erica marked large crosses on those two notes.

"And after us, there are four to go," Caitlin added.

"Right. But after that electrical storm in the canyon, I can only imagine Berserker is either extremely wounded or suffered some kind of fatality. Lancer, too, should be moving either slowly or is done,"

"We don't know anything about Caster, besides the fact they like to watch from afar," Saber added. "That only leaves Assassin that we can actually do anything against right now. Have we learned anything while you two were searching outside of the barrier?" The sisters paused, remotely silent, and waited for the other to chime in first. "Sounds riveting."

"Sorry, Saber. We did discover Assassin's Master while you were fighting. His name is Orso Belvedere and we have a long history with him," Erica added.

"Good or bad?"

Erica glanced at Caitlin, but her eyes were still locked on the notes in front of them. "Not a perfect track record. Good enough, at best," Erica said.

"Probably." Caitlin added. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket but she chose to ignore it. Her mind still muddled on the adrenaline and emotions of the night, especially after she ran into that Servant in the words who forced her to make an impromptu decision: she couldn't bring herself to actively want to kill Orso. Erica gave the room a soft smile as she heard Caitlin's slight acceptance.

There was a knock at the door as the trio discussed their lack of plan. They hushed and Saber immediately retreated to avoid any hints. "It's me." Caitlin turned to Erica with widened eyes and shook her head furiously, but Erica knew she only feigned the tough appearance by this point. Saber also suggested patience, but Erica trusted their friend more than the spoils the war might have issued.

Erica opened the door for Orso to step in, but he waited in the entryway. "She needs to say it's okay." His tone stayed stoic and serious. He was here to talk business, not relationship. Erica turned to Caitlin and waited for her response.

"Was that you who just called me? Didn't I say...didn't I say the next time I see you..."

"Interfering. I'm not here to interfere. Let me help you win. This is to bring them all back, isn't it? Please, Caitlin. I owe you more than that alone." He rolled up his left arm sleeve to show no unused command seals. "The first one was for Assassin to not kill me. The second was to have her escape last night. The third was for Assassin to not kill anyone associated with the Weiss name."

"Can't even control your own familiar. Terrible mage," Caitlin deflected as she turned toward the hotel room window. Her phone started to vibrate again, ignored once more. The two kept their eyes on her. "Gah, why are you two putting this on me?! I'm not even a Master here!"

"We're in this together, sis. No unilateral decisions. Not since day one."

"Bah!" Caitlin scratched her head with both hands. Her anger and frustrations exuded her image, but her mind knew that even as much as she would have been able to try, she couldn't hold Orso's intentions back. They were always good, even if they caused her trouble. "Fine, then. If you leave again, Orso..."

"Not a chance."

"You didn't say that five years ago." Orso felt the pang go through his chest, but chose to talk on instead of wallow.

"Mistakes were made. My priorities were different. I'm here for you no matter what."

"I hate you so much." Caitlin rolled her eyes again and put a relaxed palm to her face, unsure of whether or not it really was okay to trust him again.

"I know."

As the three finally started towards reconciliation, her phone received another call. "What could be so important...Franklin? Hello?" she finally answered. Although Erica and Orso couldn't hear the other line, they both knew Franklin was Caitlin's Association contact for work related instances. "Closest asset to what?" Erica and Orso watched as Caitlin's brow turned from annoyed, to confused, to concerned, to scared. With the phone still on her ear, she looked to Erica wi


	13. Chapter XI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the other participants recuperate from the night's battle, Viktor chases after an old memory. The canyon, finally quiet from the events of the night, becomes the center of triage between those same participants, regardless of if it was their original plan.

Qing II

Qing had fashioned a wrap onto her left shoulder and arm to prevent any further movement so the _**Poison Control**_ could continue to disinfect her wound from Assassin. Her breaths were slow in an attempt to recuperate any mana she could as fast as possible. Berserker was unconscious to her left against a boulder. He had carried her slightly north of the designated area and managed to get them away from any additional combat, but neither of them were in a position to stand tall against any opponent. He didn't even have enough mana to retreat to his dematerialized state. For now, rest was their remedy. No spells, no fights. There would be more chances. If anything, Qing felt her plan from the previous night exposed her own skill set too much. Now all of the Masters knew she was mostly a close quarters mage.

All the same, the sun's rays began to beat on the two from the East. Qing knew they were strong enough to take the Grail - that much was certain. Now it was about how they played their hand. Surely they could rush and forfeit the rest of the war while their mana reserves were depleted, or they could wait for a day. A day would be good enough, she thought. Just close her eyes for a little bit, she thought.

Qing was met with that calm grace.

As she flittered asleep, Berserker awoke. He rolled towards her to ensure her wounds had not deteriorated any further. Satisfied, he stood up straight and looked upwards. From where the sun was in the East, about two hours since he had escaped the pendulum of Lancer's Noble Phantasm. "Impossible." _**Amenonuhoko**_ was a blade that had godly origins similar to his own _**Ruyi Jingu Bang**_. The Primordial Blade - a weapon that shaped the Earth as humanity knew it. He listed his thoughts, counting the eastern spirits who could possibly wield such a weapon. Yamato Takeru, maybe Minamoto? Neither of their origins ever aligned with such a weapon.

He pondered Saber as well. _**Ice-Brook's Temper**_ didn't ring any bells on his legendary weapons radar. It was as if the blade didn't have a name and only the description of it existed.

"Awake?" Qing asked.

"You should sleep, Master. We have a long war ahead of us still."

"Yeah."

"Duei bu chi," he sighed.

"No apologizing. I didn't see you fight, but I know you fought well, I can feel it. I know you. No apologizing." She looked out of the corner of her eye. His ankle was torn and blood had crusted along his hairs, he had gashes and wounds across his chest, and his muscles spasmed every time he moved. Fatigue was certainly an issue.

She smiled, if only brief, as she realized that maybe they weren't as guaranteed this Holy Grail as they might have thought. She heard some incantations back in the depths of the canyon, but thought nothing of them. If other Masters decided to fight this morning, then that was their prerogative. The longer Qing and Berserker could rest, the better position they were in.

Incantations turned to yelling, but not the sounds of fighting. It wasn't long before a blast of light erupted from beyond the smaller hills that separated them from the official part of the designated area.

 _"Master, someone's here."_ Berserker relayed to her. Berserker climbed to his feet as he ignored his cramps.

Mai IV

Mai rested against a tree past the eastern ridge of the canyon, in a similar area to where she had met Assassin for the first time, and felt the sun hit her face. Her back still felt numb from Catlin's icicle entrapment. Her toes dangled in front of her as she pulled off her damp shoes and socks from the melted ice. Everything was wet, cold, and probably absent from her mind. She had cast _**Body Regulation**_ to maintain a proper body temperature, but that didn't mean her clothes were immediately dry.

She had narrowly escaped the fighting between Orso and the woman - Caitlin, she had heard him call. Perhaps they were close before the war, but fate brought them back together in an unsuspected manner. Perhaps that was for the best, otherwise Caitlin surely would have killed Mai in that moment before the _**Body Regulation**_ allowed her to slip away from the ice prison.

And after that, how did Lancer manage to escape her own Prison, Mai thought. "Daijoubu, Lancer?" Lancer had been remotely unresponsive in her ethereal state, but Mai was aware she was not dead. Mai tried to deliver as much mana to her as possible, but at the end of the night they both just needed to sit. Not think, not fight, not interject, just sit and watch the sun soar to the top of the sky without any interference.

Mai was not met with that calm grace.

Just as her eyes were about to glaze over, just as her mind slowed down, she had heard loud interjections from the canyon behind her. _Mai, move._ She didn't know if this was her own mind that asked her, or maybe Lancer's own communication. _Move._ Again, she thought she couldn't. Just a little rest. _Move!_

She woke herself from her almost slumber and climbed to her sore feet. The canyon beckoned her - a deep voice cried out, almost in anger and pain. Somehow, in a way she understood, yet was utterly confused. It's the middle of the morning and there were to be no battles until nightfall. Surely the other Masters would follow the rules of the war, she thought. She made her way around a side cliff and saw two apparitions below on the canyon floor.

"Archer! Show yourself immediately!" yelled an older man. Mai recalled seeing a Servant last night above the prison spell, and remembered the spell he began to chant. The spell had struck her memory in a peculiar way, as if she had seen it once before, but past that she had already forgotten that Archer was still a player.

Archer VI

With his final day of mana, Archer wasn't interested in fighting or talking to anyone. He only wanted to fade away back into the Throne of Heroes so he, hopefully, could have a fresh chance for the next Holy Grail. He had heard the inane screams from Viktor, yet didn't want to continue Alan's debacle of a grudge. He held no distaste for Viktor and his family, nor was he afraid of Caster in any capacity, thus this meeting was of no interest to him.

"Caster, use your Noble Phantasm. Make Archer appear," Viktor pleaded.

"Master, with all due respect, I've wanted to put us in the fray for the duration of the war, but that seems to be a tragic miscalculation of mana. And you know it has consequences."

"I'll deal with the consequences. Do it."

"More bluntly, that is absurd, and I will not. I will use it to fight, but we shouldn't use it for such trivial reasons."

"Caster, by my demand of a Command Seal, _use your Noble Phantasm_. Make Archer appear." Viktor forced. The last insignia of his seals glared with a bright red force and swirled around Caster. He shook his head in visible disagreement.

"Hmph. Very well. _**Imperfect Philosopher's Stone**_." Caster proclaimed. Photons pulled from all directions and forced the silhouette of Archer to form in front of them. He didn't try to fight the forced materialization, although Archer didn't enjoy the pull from his dematerialized state. With a burst of light and wave of gravity, Archer stood before the two fighters, unprepared for a brawl.

Viktor coughed up a significant amount of blood, enough to prompt medical attention in any other scenario. The sudden mana shock to Viktor's system would bring any other mage to their knees, and this wasn't even a high level use of Caster's Noble Phantasm. If anything, the Command Seal probably lessened the blow of the cost to Viktor's system.

 _ **"** **Revitalize."**_ With a long breath and a clutched chest, Viktor peered back forward to the Servant before him. His light Greek garb, powerful legs, impressive stature. Truly a hero, truly a king. "I demand you answer my questions, hah, Archer," he panted out.

"Surely you must know that I don't have much time left here. If this is about your discrepancy with Alan Bach or his family, then I cannot intervene any more than I already have as his Servant. My Master is dead and that's all there is to it."

"No." Viktor caught his breath again. For twenty years he had employed Clock Tower to search and scour books, artifacts, and ruins alike in failed attempts to unearth that spell. Now he had a glimmer of an answer. "This is the final call."

Archer raised an eyebrow and took a half step back. He did not expect to hear that from a mortal, but the fact that the spell circle had not appeared meant Viktor did not know the spell itself. "That was an odd thing to say," he pretended.

"Tell me everything. All of it. What it means, where you go after you use it, how you learned it. I need to know."

"That's what we're here for?" Caster interjected. "We're not here to finish him off? That is what the Command Seal was for? Master, you uneducated fool."

"Silence, Caster! This is more important than your Holy Grail. This means everything to me!" Archer was taken aback by the regret in Viktor's voice. It was common to see disagreements between Master and Servant, but this was of a different nature.

"How do you even know what that spell is? It is not for mortal use."

"A long time ago, my...a...someone I knew used that spell. The full spell. He saved my life, my family...but..."

"You never saw him again. Vanished without a trace, into the void and depths of Hades' domain. Not dead, never dead, forever floating into nonexistence as the chains pull him and his accused apart for eternity." Viktor's mouth dropped. In some capacity he knew that had to have been Jun's fate, but he refused to believe it. He had always silently hoped that maybe, perhaps, Jun could lay at peace. "This is why only a few spirits even know the incantation. The fact that a mortal was even aware of the existence of that spell surprises me."

"Is there any way...to communicate with him? To tell him that I did what he asked?"

"Even if there were..." Archer let the gravity sink in. He thought back to how stupid he was last night to have even thought about using that spell against Berserker. How foolish, he knew, in an attempt to only try and give Orso Belvedere and Assassin a better chance. How incredibly moronic of a choice that would have been.

"Could the Holy Grail bring him back?" Viktor pleaded.

"That is not the wish we agreed on, Mast - "

"Zatknis!" he yelled back with a clutched fist.

"To be honest, I don't know. Maybe? The nature of the spell removes the user and their target from this plane and into one permanently blinded by light. I'm impressed this mortal could get through the spell without his limbs tearing off."

Viktor scoffed and smiled as he remembered his friend. "Yes, that sounds like him." There was a lull in the canyon. Caster's eyes rolled in confusion, anger, and distaste. Valuable weapons of their arsenal used in an instant. If any other Master were watching, they would be keenly aware of their tools and probably Caster's True Name. "Then the Grail is truly my only hope."

"It appears to be that way, Viktor Conrad." Archer forced a pitied smile as he knew the pursuit of results of that spell were almost futile.

From the brush calmly walked a familiar face for Viktor, but his presence did not spark any pleasure. "That was sooner than I thought you would use it, Viktor." Oliver Storgaard said. As Viktor and Caster turned their heads, Archer crossed his arms.

Caster V

"Oliver? Your battle is done, Rider is dead, leave China and avoid any more bloodshed," Viktor offered.

"On the contrary, Mr. Conrad. My battle has only just begun." He turned to both Caster and Archer with wide eyes.

"Master of Rider?" Archer started as he remembered him from two nights prior. "My apologies, but I will not be forming any new contracts in this war. I have already decided to fade away once my mana reserves deplete." Oliver ignored the remark.

"Caster," he started. Caster was worried that the enemy might have seen all he needed to see. "How would you like to join my cause?" The other souls on the canyon floor paused. "Unlike Viktor, I intend to use your abilities to their potential. I have a clear goal in mind. Unwavering. We could defeat any mage in our path."

"How dare you, Oliver," Viktor added.

Caster scoffed. "I'm not so dishonorable, Oliver Storgaard."

"Consider this. You can't break your contract, that's fine. Any spells you use go off Viktor's mana, that's fine too. But he can't push you around into these meaningless, sheltered missions of his anymore. No command seals, you see." Caster raised an eyebrow. Oliver stood there with open arms as he waited for Caster to take his side. Without another sentence on the matter, Viktor fired a magic bolt that prompted a quick dodge.

"Caster, finish him."

 _ **"** **Motion."**_ Caster swept the canyon floor of dust and pushed Oliver to the base of a nearby tree. Oliver coughed with a grin and a slight pant as he looked back up at Caster.

"With me we can do so much, oof, so much more!" Caster walked towards him, unthreatened by the measly mage.

 _ **"** **Gravity."**_ Force pushed down onto Oliver's shoulders. He hadn't issued any commands to counteract or fight back, and instead focused on his legs to remain upright. His lungs filled with pressure as he pushed out his final statement.

"We can, aah, finish...hoo...it." Caster stopped. Oliver gasped as air filled his lungs back up. He coughed and spat, but knew he had won this battle.

"Finish what?" Caster asked.

"Caster! Kill him now!" Viktor demanded. Like Oliver had said, Viktor held no further influence over him.

"The stone. Your, hah, stone. Make the Philosopher's Stone. Elixir of Life." A glimmer came from behind Caster as Viktor shot another bolt towards the gasping Oliver.

 _ **"** **Decelerate."**_ Caster influenced Viktor's bolt and made it miss Oliver by a wide margin. Viktor stood dumbfounded. He had more reason than ever to reach the Holy Grail, but as a veteran, he knew that was impossible without the help of a Servant. He swore under his breath.

"Give me the power...power to best any mage on the planet. We'll go through them all - one by one - until we can make the stone ourselves. Your life's work."

"What's stopping me from staying with Viktor and having the Holy Grail make my stone for me? That was my original goal."

"The Grail and the Philosopher's Stone are the same, the same artifact. If you wish the Holy Grail to make an artifact that would serve the same purpose as itself, it wouldn't work. It grants a wish, it does not belong to any soul. Hah. That was a lot of words, hoo. Magic."

Oliver's words spun around in Caster's head. The Philosopher's Stone, an object that could grant any physical desire. The Holy Grail, the ethereal object that could grant any wish. Any one wish. But in its physical form, would effectively be the same thing as the precious Philosopher's Stone. The Holy Grail's divine properties make its physical form unable to be held by any one individual. Paradox. He had notes on paradoxes that he would need to reference.

"I see," Caster said. Sullen. Realizations. Puzzle pieces clicked together, one at a time, as if he was in the middle of a math problem. Each side of the equation balanced itself out in a sequence of elements, numbers, and formulae.

"Caster, stop this foolishness at once," Viktor more quietly followed up.

"No. You were the fool, Master. _**Motion**_." Caster sent Viktor off to the other side of the canyon as a plume of dust erupted from the base of a mountain near the north side.

"Yes! Caster, please, if you will." Oliver paused in the middle of his face-wide grin. "Give me the power to eliminate all mages!" His phrasing of the demand had changed from when he first spoke, but Caster had already decided to follow through with Oliver's agenda.

 _ **"** **Imperfect Philosopher's Stone**_ _ **."**_ Similar to its earlier use, light pulsed from Caster's chest as the Noble Phantasm began its work. Unlike a complete Philosopher's Stone or the Holy Grail, this version of the artifact would draw a significant toll that depended on the demand issued. Bringing Archer into materialization was a smaller cost. A wish on this level was bound to have a drastic effect on Viktor and his mana. Not that Caster or Oliver cared about that repercussion anymore.

The Noble Phantasm shot beams of light into both Oliver and Caster. The weight of his wish began to fully realize itself with the materials presented to it - the two pulled closer together in every physical capacity until the light snapped the image of Oliver and Caster into one homogenous being. A burst of light pounded out from the canyon floor with electric sparks flying out from what looked like a rigid corpse in the dirt. One by one, his fingers moved and grappled the ground beneath him. Oliver raised his head and caught his breath, breathing in motes of dust around him, only to continue his impervious grin.


	14. Chapter XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Oliver Storgaard's accumulation of Caster's powers, the now powerful Demi-Servant threatens all of the mages on the planet. His quest for vengeance against those who shaped his life had finally come to a peak. Caitlin, Erica, and Orso learned of the new threat via Caitlin's mentor from Clock Tower, while Viktor and Mai witnessed the transformation first hand.

Qing III

In front of the wounded two, the Greek king appeared and stood much taller in comparison. "Ready to face me head on, Archer?!" Berserker gritted his teeth and snarled his snout in an attempt to rile himself up. His muscles still hurt, as it had only been a few hours of manaless recovery since his fight with Lancer.

"No." Archer turned around towards Qing as Berserker tried to take a swipe at him. Without much effort, Archer pushed the Monkey King back down. "Even though I don't have much time here, both of your mana reserves are more spent than mine. I could kill you both right now with what I have left, but that won't help the...situation. Not sure what will help the situation." Berserker coughed as he unwillingly landed on his behind. Berserker continued to grit his teeth as he pushed up to a single knee.

"Archer?" Qing asked. She had not seen him in person but his description matched what Berserker had guessed from what he saw on the first night. It didn't take long for her to acknowledge that there was some gravity to his voice. Not only that, but Archer was right. Both Qing and Berserker knew that a fight at this very moment was not in their best interest. The visible injuries on both of them and the struggle to merely stand was enough to prompt a forfeit. "What do you have to say, Archer?"

"Rider's Master, through a sequence of events that might seem questionable, has fused with Caster. Because it was the Caster class, that effectively makes Rider's Master the strongest mage in existence." Berserker raised one of his thick eyebrows. "His goal is to eliminate all mages - he said that out loud. Not sure how he's going to go about it, but one thing is certain." Archer took a deep breath. "If any one spirit is to stop this before it gets out of control, it's the King of Monkeys." Qing caught a massive smile grow across Berserker's face as he couldn't hold the pride in.

"So you came to me because you needed a real hero, huh?! The strongest hero?!" he burst with confidence.

"It's incredibly ironic. Just a handful of hours ago I was set on eliminating you entirely. Now the only thing I can do is assist you in any way possible." Archer rolled his eyes as Berserker's got larger - his body language begged Archer to praise him more. "I'll hold your ground as you two recover as much mana as possible." Berserker laughed boisterously. "Keep it down, we're not far from the canyon. I imagine Rider's Master won't be here long; he has an agenda. We just need to stop this sooner rather than later." Berserker continued his laugh until he fell back asleep.

Mai V

From the thicket of smoke in the mountainside that Caster had thrust Viktor into, Mai stood with a magical circle in front of her. She had caught Viktor before his collision, but the force of Caster's spell had pressed onward to kick up a smokescreen. The impact still knocked the wind out of Viktor, but all the same he was relieved to see that someone had come to his aid. Although he could have landed on his own two feet regardless, he turned with untrusting eyes to see a young girl with red flower command seals on her left hand. Viktor caught his breath again before he put a hand out to the other Master when his heart felt like it began to collapse. His chest felt like it caved in, like nails pounded into his shoulders and sides, as if it was ripped apart and inward at the same time. His lungs that didn't have enough air in them in the first place gasped for any oxygen it could latch onto. Mai watched this unfold as Viktor fell to his knees and dug his fingers into the coarse ground layered with rock and dust.

"Dai - are you okay? Hang in there!" she called out. She pleaded. Mai could see the faded etches on Viktor's hand from his utilized command seals - although she couldn't hear the entirety of the conversation from the canyon, she could at least deduce that this man was Viktor Conrad, Master of Caster, winner of the previous Holy Grail War. He was much older than Orso Belvedere and had the wrinkles, scars, and calluses to prove it.

Viktor spat up blood and other bodily fluids in a pinkish mix of disappointment and disdain. These effects were similar to how he felt when Caster had used his Noble Phantasm just moments earlier, but multiplied by a large factor. Oliver's demand had been much greater than merely an attempt to force Archer out of his hidden placement. Now Viktor had a much larger problem on his hands than a disobedient Servant. He looked up to try to see his Servant but was met with confusion. Only Oliver stood in the canyon.

Water filled his eyes as snot dripped from his freckled nose, unable to focus on the situation at hand any further. Instead, he looked at Mai's hand in front of him. A hand stretched out, regardless of his status in this war. He couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia before he grabbed Mai's forearm and stood back up. His lungs felt as if they were on fire, and his throat could form no words. His head felt concussed, but all the same, he needed to stand. Now was not the time to slow down. He wiped his eyes with the collar of his dirty shirt and put his thumb out in front of him to spell a note in magical photons: "What happened?" the note said as he pointed out to the empty canyon.

"The...your Caster, he used a spell, and it looked like he...combined with that other man." Mai said, entirely still too trusting. Viktor coughed, almost in pure denial, yet knew that was a possibility of the _**Imperfect Philosopher's Stone**_. A demand that ominous would not have been granted flawlessly, especially with the toll it took on Viktor's body. Although Lancer was still in fatigue and watched from nearby, she felt this was an odd set of circumstances. Perhaps trust would be the best route to take for now. It didn't seem like this man was on the Demi-Servant's side.

Viktor placed his thumb in front of him again for a new message, "can you retreat?" Even though he desperately wanted to say 'we,' he knew this was something he had to fix. If he could spare a girl way too young to be a Master, then that was a victory.

Mai nodded, and barely still under the thick of the mountainside veil, she said, "let's go." Just as Viktor presented a secretly relieved smile, she grabbed Viktor's arm and dashed off through the foliage side of the designated area.

Oliver IV

Oliver stood and stared at his hands. His three unused command seals burned on his flesh, his newfound magical circuits stretched to his fingers and toes, his energy more than doubled. He felt so good, yet so contained. So strong, yet needed an outlet. His mind raced as it panned across all of Caster's memories, spells, learnings, and mistakes. He wondered if for a moment he _was_ Isaac Newton in the flesh, but decided he was not. He was certainly still Oliver Storgaard. His goal remained the same - kill every mage on the planet. Oddly enough, he had no desire nor care to complete the Philosopher's Stone. A perfect imperfection of Caster's Noble Phantasm. Caster had no control over Oliver's mind, nor did Oliver sense any issue with his sanity. This was better than his plan. This was extraordinary. He stood for maybe ten minutes as he plotted his course. Directly to Clock Tower, he thought. Take out the most mages as possible. Or eliminate all of the Masters? Surely the Holy Grail itself wouldn't hurt his cause. If anything, if another Master secured the Grail it would severely hamper his progress or ruin it altogether. The longer he stayed in China, the more likely he was to fight the remaining Servants anyway - familiars he'd rather deal with after his objective was complete.

As he argued with himself for too long, he sensed projectiles jettisoned into his direction. _**"Refract,"**_ he called to distort them out of the way before they approached his chest. He looked at them as they hit the ground and deduced they were knives, coated with a thin white oil. "Assassin? Holy Grail first, then. Makes sense. Can't let someone else undo my progress."

"Although I've not met this actor,

I see a face riddled with desire,

It's unclear from the apparent factors,

What's this power you've acquired?" Saber made his entrance.

Uninterested in monologues or time mismanagement, Oliver aggressively called out, _**"** **Gravity!"**_ The weight of the atmosphere pounded down on Saber's shoulders as he made a small dent in the earth below him. The spell had been amplified by Oliver's own magical circuits which brought more force down on Saber's legs. Oliver let out a small laugh as he felt the mana glow through his fingers and said, _**"** **Melting Bolt!"**_ Saber, under the duress of the first spell, drew his blade and deflected the bolts fired. Oliver grimaced slightly while Assassin threw more blades at him from afar, which weakened Saber's forceful containment.

Saber obliged Oliver's decision to not discuss his actions. He raced towards the mage with a forceful strike, only for Oliver to call _**"** **Motion"**_ to thrust Saber off to the side. Assassin revealed herself much closer to Oliver than he preferred, but her lack of melee skills showed in comparison to Saber. Oliver could dodge her swings swiftly before he cast a _**Limb Seal**_ on her legs. Assassin faltered and fell into the dirt while Saber moved back into play. _**"** **Gravity!"**_ Oliver called to squish Saber on top of Assassin's limp body. "This is incredible. It's as if my mana reserves are limitless. Two Servant level familiars cast to the side as if they were merely foot soldiers." Saber grimaced as he tried to push off of Assassin, but the force of the amplified spell was still greater than anticipated.

Oliver held his hand out to finish the two Servants off as more bolts fired at him from a distance. These were thicker and slower than Assassin's knives, so he simply moved to the side to conserve mana. The bolts were enough to disrupt his concentration on the Servants as they broke free from the compression and bind.

From behind Oliver, Orso appeared out of a puff of thick smoke and punched Oliver across the face. The blow tossed Oliver several meters, but he stood up as he held his cheek.

"Teleporter. Annoying," he said. Ice bolts came at him from two separate directions, large in stature and made purely to disrupt his movements as Saber and Assassin approached him in closer quarters. Saber's ground speed rivaled Rider's, but not before Oliver could send a command of his own, _**"** **Melting Ground! Motion!"**_ A two meter radius swirled around Oliver and both Servants, under the guise of quicksand. Their legs caught in the swirl as Oliver mercilessly took aim at Assassin's captured head, no more than a meter in front of him, and one more time said, _**"** **Melting Bolt."**_ Assassin's neck and torso fell to the viscous dirt and immediately faded into it.

"Assassin!" Orso called out. The death was so swift that even he couldn't comprehend it immediately. With Saber's feet still stuck in the ground, Orso aimed his arm back at Oliver and cast, _**"** **Break Push!"**_ The magic force crashed against Oliver and sent him westward as he tumbled across the canyon. As a side effect, Oliver's upper right arm had fractured and split down the middle from the intensity of one of Orso's strongest spells. By the time Orso could arrive next to Saber, Assassin had disappeared completely. Orso gripped his right hand, upset, bit his lip, and sighed out of his nose. Although he never trusted his Assassin completely, he did rely on her to get him as far into this War as possible. "Sulochana..." he mumbled.

Saber pulled his boots out of the ground forcefully. He turned to Orso who was in the middle of lament and felt some slight confliction. One less Servant in the way of the Grail, but one less weapon to deal with the monster in front of them.

"Just because your Servant dies at my hand doesn't mean I can ignore you. I'd find you again anyway." Oliver turned to Orso, focused and unrelenting.

"You can retreat, Orso Belvedere," Saber started. "Lament your Servant's death, protect those you love." Saber rolled his head and right shoulder. "I will end this here."

"The warp was Assassin's magic, not mine. You're stuck with me." Saber was visibly disappointed. Although Oliver's Demi-Servant status was a higher priority than Saber's desires, he itched for a one-on-one duel ever since Berserker blew him away. Orso's arm might have pulsed with pain, but he stayed true to the job at hand.

_**"** **Melting Ground. Motion.** **"**_ Oliver wasted no time in trying to capture the two in his web. The two were about to make a dash away but the swiftness of Oliver's spell encapsulated their feet.

_**"** **Congeal!"**_ Erica had shouted as she ran to Orso's side. The ground ceased its movements, but Oliver's two spells still trumped Erica's one. It had stopped the ground from moving, but it still made attempts to eat at their toes.

"Master! The plan was to keep you back!" Saber said.

"He keeps messing up your footing - you need support." Erica refused to let Saber lose. She had scolded him after the first night, and Saber wasn't about to undermine Erica's decision making unless it had blatant critical flaws. "Orso! _**Ice Bolt!**_ "

_**"** **Pull!"**_ Orso curved Erica's _**Ice Bolts**_ around Oliver to strike him from the side. The change in direction forced him to dodge, but Saber met him on his back side with his blade.

_**"** **Refract!"**_ cried Oliver in momentary distress. Saber's aim was impeccable - his stab would have pierced Oliver directly through his ribcage and into his heart had it landed where it was meant for. The _**Refract**_ was too late to bend Saber's sword into the viscous ground, but it saved him the death sentence. Blood trickled out from his lower left side as Saber pulled his blade back, ready for another strike. _**"** **Disperse!"**_ The spell pushed all three of Oliver's assailants back several meters.

The _**Melting Ground**_ bubbled beneath the mages as Saber danced back and forth to stay above it. Oliver carefully pet his struck side, and grinned with relief. The speed of the stab was unreal. Oliver could barely assess the damage as it happened. Not until the moments after the attack could he realize he was out of that immediate danger.

"This gambit is over, Oliver Storgaard," Orso claimed. "On behalf of the Association, I can give you a chance. No more spells. Be reasonable. It's two mages and a Servant." Oliver kept his grin on his face. He had no intention of stepping aside, no matter the odds against him.

"The Association didn't give my family a chance. They killed them without a second thought. They thrust this life on me - intentional or not. This is their reward for such devastation." His grin widened, his teeth clenched at the thought of seeing the first mages perish at the beginning of his conquest. The Command Seals on the back of his right hand began to glow feverishly as Oliver cast, _**"** **Gravitational Field."**_

Archer VII

What a quiet scene in comparison, Archer thought. Qing and Berserker rest together while turmoil continues to clamor in the canyon. Odd magical sounds erupted from the designated area, but Archer kept his ground. If Rider's Master were to discover the two here in a weakened state, then that would be their end for sure. They need at least a full day of rest before being close to fronting an assault against the Demi-Servant. If other mages perish in the time in between, then at least they would have forced Oliver Storgaard to use mana. That, sadly, would have been the only positive in the wake of much sadness.

"Stalling," he whispered to himself and sighed, "is all we can hope for now. The King of Monkeys excels in world-ending situations such as these. This is the right plan of action. Or lack thereof, for that matter." Archer crossed his arms, using his class's heightened sense of hearing to maintain clarity on the situation. He needed to gather as much information as possible if they were going to succeed in any capacity. Spells, spells, more spells. Although he was capable in magecraft, the constant flow of magic almost gave him a headache. It wasn't until he heard footsteps come much closer that he stopped concentrating on the canyon.

"Archer," Caitlin said out loud.

"Hello again, Miss Support." Caitlin took a few steps closer. "Ah ah, I'm sorry Miss Support. Those two will not be disturbed." He stepped in front of her, prepared to defend Berserker and his Master at any cost.

"Orso told us about you. It didn't take long to put that piece together. Besides, at this point the only other Servant you could be is Lancer. I met that Master already - not one hundred percent on Orso's side at the moment."

"I can appreciate that you've ended up as a 'yes' since my question last night, but the game has changed drastically since then." Archer pointed in the direction of the canyon clearing.

"That's why I came searching for other Masters." Archer raised an eyebrow. "It looks like you're wittier than you think you are."

"Oh, Miss Support, I am much wittier than that."

"Stop calling me that..." Caitlin loosened her shoulders. "The Association has put the war on hold. Oliver Storgaard is - "

"I know the rest. I can hear them fighting right now. Berserker over there is the only one who can even possibly stop him. His range of spells, strength, Noble Phantasm. We need to make sure he and his Master regain as much mana as possible."

Caitlin observed the two. She sensed the slow regeneration of mana within them, but they were still weak. "May I? Now that we're aligned." Archer let his guard down. Caitlin approached the sleeping Master and Servant, awed by the amount of damage they still sported from the night prior. She had been behind the scenes the entirety of the war, but these two had been in the thickest part of it. Caitlin lifted Qing's limp head and gently connected with her lips. The sudden infusion of mana, although light, brought Qing awake.

"Wha...Archer!"

"It's alright. She's on our side." Archer's eyes widened as he looked back towards the canyon clearing. "That doesn't sound good. Miss Support, Orso Belvedere and your partner might be in trouble." Caitlin rolled her eyes as he extended his arm out to the girls. Caitlin was wary, but had no choice but to trust Archer. If he held true to his word, then he was still Orso's ally all the same. "You too," he called to Qing.

Qing now had enough mana to let Berserker rest in his dematerialized state, and as such dismissed him. She and Caitlin grabbed opposite arms as Archer leapt past the few hills that separated them and the fray within the canyon.

Within a couple of seconds they were within range, but they stayed hidden behind foliage. Oliver gripped his side and checked to see how much blood he had lost while Orso, Erica, and Saber looked stuck in place. The ground moved around them, but only slightly. The optics of the scene were disorienting at best.

"What are they doing? They're just standing there," asked Qing.

"No, look. My sister is trying to move her arm up to cast a bolt spell. Saber is trying to move forward too. Archer, what happened?"

"Oliver cast a spell. Some kind of gravity field."

"Time to help." Caitlin took a step out before Archer put a hand on her shoulder.

"If you go out there, we won't support you. Berserker's mana is a priority."

"Not for me. I already helped with that. My family is my priority, and all of my family is out there right now." She took Archer's hand gingerly and moved it aside. She made one swift step away from the treeline before the next spell roared throughout the canyon.

_**"** **Melting Wave!"**_ A transparent wall of heat came from both of Oliver's hands towards Erica and Orso. The sensation pushed its way through to those back in the trees - as if the now midday sun had poured the most blistering day of the year into their faces.

Time came to a crawl as Caitlin stared into the gorge. The wall of heat barreled towards her sister as Caitlin thought of the spell to counter it. _**Icy Wind**_ , she thought to herself, would be the best defense against this type of offensive spell. Not only would it stop the attack, but disperse it as well. It made sense. The logic behind it was solid. In fact, she could remember their time in the academy when they tested opposite elemental spells against each other. Erica's spell, regardless of elemental advantage, would usually trump hers. All the same, Caitlin could see the words forming in Erica's mouth from across the dirt. Of course she had the same thought - the sisters always stayed on the same page. Say the spell, Erica. Finish your cast.

The wave blew over the immobile Erica, steadily shredding her clothes, skin, then muscle away. Within an extended second, her corpse collapsed onto the dirt without another word. Orso's left arm and leg were hit by the wave as he hit the ground as well. The _**Gravitational Field**_ dispersed and Saber, from the opposite side of Oliver and the two Masters, with lightning speed dashed to thrust his blade into Oliver's back. Without turning around, Oliver could see the flickers of light speed past him with the momentum that remained without a mana source.

"Wha..." Caitlin stared. She couldn't move past that first step and a half. Her fingers twitched as her stomach caved inward. Her throat swelled from the remaining heat of Oliver's spell. Or did that have anything to do with it at all?

Orso rolled over from the pain. Unlike Erica, his appendages still existed but were severely wounded and damaged. Archer noted Caitlin's trance and leapt towards Orso to spare her of something. Anything, he thought. His sudden stop kicked the dirt up into a small cloud that fluttered in the dissipating heat. He grabbed Orso's right, still broken arm from under him.

"One pest after another," Oliver said out loud. "No matter, I have mana to spare. _**Melting Wa -**_ "

_**"** **Tactical Retreat."**_ A spell circle engulfed Archer and Orso and transplanted the two back towards Caitlin and Qing who continued to watch from the treeline.


	15. Chapter XIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Holy Grail War on thematic hold by the Mages' Association, Oliver prepares to continue his fight. Unable to front a realistic defense, Archer struggles with the odds of success. Qing and Berserker have minimal mana and are at least two days away from full recovery while Caitlin refuses to accept reality.

Oliver V

The designated area came back to its regularly scheduled daytime calm. Wildlife was now absent from this place - the river had begun to turn into a muddy swamp. The trees and mountains had cracks and rips across the landscape from all of the disruption. The dirt had finally stopped moving from the constant sway of the quicksand and commotion put forth from Oliver's, or rather Caster's, spells. Oliver took a deep breath and let the oxygen flow down to his fingers as he brought them back into a fist.

Nothing, he thought, could sway his determination. He thought back to all the times he asked for the Association's assistance in regards to his parents' murders. No scholar, no elder mage, no investigators would touch Oliver's case. The Storgaards had been left to the wayside of the society for unknown reasons. Purposed to be forgotten by any standard of magician in any capacity.

Yet, Oliver knew, he had this crest for a reason. His mother had the crest for a reason. He had a lineage of magic in his blood, yet not a single mage in the world knew their name. This wasn't just odd, not just curious. Incorrect, he thought. They were lying. What other explanation could there be? Assailants were sent to their small home in Ireland for a purpose. All those years ago, he had resolved to let it be. Perhaps, he wondered, there might be truth in ignorance. Why would anyone want to eliminate his family in the first place? Why hadn't they come after him all these years later to finish the job?

Until he found a lone Clock Tower scroll, hidden in the intricacies of their grand library. A scroll misplaced. A scroll not meant to be left in the swirl of books and tomes labeled 'Maria, Francis, and the Rogue Assessment.' Those were his parents' names. At first, a coincidence, but by the third paragraph, utterly intentional.

His thoughts remained short. Irrational. If the plot against his parents came from the magus society, and no one committed to divulge any information or knowledge of the case against his family, then there was only ever one solution in his mind. There's too many. If there were too many mages that can do as they please, too many mages that are involved in secret plots against families, then surely the entirety of the magus society was plagued. It was they who were conniving. Under no circumstance in his mind could his life on the Irish prairie have a negative impact on others.

But he had never tried to understand why before. With Caster's mind inside of his own, analysis started to pour details onto the cauldron of whatever case he had imagined up for the trajectory of his life. He refused to stop and think that maybe, perhaps, his parents removed themselves from the magus society because _they_ were the plague. That possibly _they_ had been murderers or that _they_ caused insurrection across the globe in different instances that were never recorded. Alas, had anyone at Clock Tower divulged this information, then Oliver might not have gone down the path that he did. Had they given the slightest inkling of direction for the young man fifteen years ago, then Oliver Storgaard might have even become an asset with his etched magical crest.

"But you did not," Oliver said out loud. "You did not help me. You did not guide me. You left me to my questions, my ignorance, and my gumptions. You left me to my notes, my cries, my emptiness. You all pushed me out, with such abandon that I had no choice." Oliver's two command seals brightened and gleamed across the canyon floor. "I'll put this whole debacle to rest. Then you will all die by my own hand. _**Imperfect Philosopher's Stone.**_ "

Viktor VI

By midday, Mai had retreated back to Luoyang with Viktor. He still struggled to breathe, but slowly regained his voice over the rest of the morning. His muscles felt thinner, fatigued, and loose. The side effects of such an erratic Noble Phantasm had certainly taken its toll. It took the majority of Viktor's remaining strength to walk the last kilometer back to the Conrad estate. His fingers pained him with every curl and twitch. His mana would recover in time, but at his age, his body would struggle to revitalize itself even with magic.

"Around, hah, the corner," he said to Mai beside him. Viktor couldn't help but blame himself for the transgressions of the morning. His obsession with Jun's fate had caused a result that may very well end the lives of his entire family - the family he had sworn to put always.

Three bodies stood in front of the Conrad estate. Kristof waited behind the barrier for his Uncle's return, on guard against those in front of him. Kristof didn't waver and never took his eyes off of the Servant that patiently waited for Viktor's return. "Uncle, Archer claims that he needs to speak with you. Where have you been? The Association also reached out."

"Thank you, Kristof," Viktor said as he took a breath. "Archer." A girl, Berserker's Master if Viktor's profiling was correct, stood behind Archer. Further back was a man that laid on the ground with a different girl, vaguely familiar, hovering over him.

"You can let the barrier down. We need to assess the options. The more we stall, the worse your world is." Archer didn't waste time. Viktor sighed as he knew this was a mess that he had to clean, even if it took the last bit of what he had. Viktor had been prepared to leave it all on the table since this war began.

"Kristof. Go to the...the east side seal. Unravel Caster's barrier."

"Uncle!"

"This war is over for us, Kristof. Even now I can still feel the hindrance of that traitorous Servant seeping mana from me. If anything, this barrier is keeping him attached to us. Please." With a dropped jaw, Kristof reluctantly left for the east side of the manor. "I'm going to need to know who your guests are, Archer. I'm sure Alan told you that my family and I have plenty of enemies."

"Of course, but I don't think you have much of a choice." Archer dropped his head a little bit to hint that this was due to Viktor's negligence of his Servant's wishes.

Qing stepped out from behind Archer, still covered in cuts and bruises. The _**Poison Control**_ had worked its magic to finally repel the majority of Assassin's toxin. Her clothes still shredded, her hair still frayed and messy from the confrontation. Viktor recognized she and Berserker could have stepped back to avoid this whole situation. To be honest with himself, if this mage had decided to strike him swiftly, in his current state he would not have been able to defend.

"Qing Shan. I'm - " As Qing began her introduction, Caster's barrier dissipated behind them.

"Let's talk inside. The other Servants can communicate freely then." Viktor took a step towards his estate and almost fell into the adjacent fence. Mai, by his side, caught him and helped him back to his feet.

With the entourage inside the estate's front door, Kristof joined them again to hear what the enemies had to say. Although he was on edge, everyone else in the room looked exasperated. Overworked, sleepy, and drained, the remainder of mages left in this war didn't have much to give.

Berserker and Lancer materialized shortly after the doors closed. Berserker stood tall beside Qing as he ignored his own injuries. Mai could see the crust of blood still hang onto his ankle from her magical snare she placed in the woods. Long cuts were still strung along his arms from Lancer's naginata.

Caitlin continued to hover over Orso as he faded in and out of consciousness. "Kristof, please round up a couple of healers for the young man," Viktor asked. Kristof noted Orso's left side. Capillaries had exploded within his limbs and his skin had been singed. His shirt had barely held together by the collar and the damage to his arm looked irreparable, regardless of the amount of healing magic they might put into him.

"I'll begin," Archer started. "Per Miss Support," as he pointed at Caitlin, "the Association has stopped your war, so you can put aside your differences immediately." Archer realized early on in the war with Alan Bach that none of these families would be particularly fond of each other.

The entryway of the estate grew silent. The pessimism of every person there gained some semblance of traction after Archer's statement. They could understand the gravity of the situation if the war was now on hold, but at the same time, everyone left in this room would try to kill each other as soon as this hold was lifted. It was a complicated, fragile, and delicate alliance at its best. At its worst, it would shatter well before they step foot out the door to deal with Oliver and the threat he posed.

Archer continued, "I think we're all aware of the damage Mister Storgaard is capable of. He displayed a powerful array of both his own and Caster's spells in the canyon this morning. I also believe we are all aware of the circumstances of this dramatic shift in power?" Archer looked out of the corner of his eye to Viktor. Viktor sighed in acceptance; he understood that his negligence towards this particular war, as well as Caster himself, was the catalyst that served Oliver's purposes much more than his.

"I...is that..." started Mai. She looked towards Orso on the floor. A couple of Conrad supporters placed a cot beneath him and began to carry him off into another room in the estate. Caitlin did not move during this transition.

"Who is unaware of our positions?" Viktor asked. "I don't know some of your faces. I've been - "

"But we all know who you are, Viktor Conrad," Caitlin added angrily. She stood up from her kneeled spot on the floor where Orso had been and took a few steps towards Viktor, but Qing had grabbed her arm to hold her back. "How many families have your relatives killed over the past thirty years? Do you know how hard it's been - for my sister and I to walk past you in Clock Tower our entire lives? Knowing your Aunt killed our father. Then our mother. And you killed our brother. And now...now because of you..." She bit down on her lip, and stopped pulling against Qing. Her cheeks quivered and pulled upwards, her breath became erratic. It had yet to truly hit her - the reality that her sister was dead. It had been just the two of them for a decade, but that number was suddenly halved in an instant. "You have had a hand in destroying my entire family! One by one! And now, even Orso..." The room was quiet, but Viktor held no remorse. It's what you agree to when you join these wars. People will die, most likely family of your own. If not, then the family you met along the way. "I have a mind to put a bolt through your head right now. I'm the only one here with any mana." Viktor's expression didn't change. The stoicism held true as it wasn't the first time, and probably not the last, that he would hear something to that effect.

Archer walked behind Caitlin and put a hand on her shoulder. He knew as much as anyone that time spent without family pained him every day. He knew all too well. "That is why we need you and him the most. If what Alan Bach told me is true, then Viktor Conrad, although cunning, is the best tactical magician in the world. We need everyone in this room to support Berserker if we want to protect the magus world from Oliver Storgaard." Caitlin shook her head and turned her back to the rest of the room, but didn't leave. It was as if her body understood the gravity of the current situation, but her mind refused to move past the obvious.

"I will not shy away from my past transgressions, Miss Weiss. And yes, don't think for one moment that I didn't know who you or your sister were for all of those days. Or Orso Belvedere, whose father also fell at the hands of my Aunt thirty years ago. You sign your life away when you participate in this war. I am no exception. I bear the scars to prove it. As well as the scars of those no longer here."

"You need not patronize her," Archer spoke up forcefully. This caught Viktor aback - Archer had tried to be neutral during this meeting thus far. Viktor didn't feel as if he patronized Caitlin, but more so he felt the need to defend himself amidst the accusations. But perhaps that was Archer's point. "Or are you deafened to the cries that have filled this room since we walked in?" Archer let the sentence seep in. "But right now they're only limited to the few. Every second passed puts us in greater danger. Everyone here has limited mana. We all must play a part."

"And what is mine, then?" Berserker finally chimed in with a smile. "You mentioned it in the designated area, Archer. Please remind everyone why we are all really here." Archer brought a hand to his temple, embarrassed for his fellow heroic spirit's lack of modesty.

"Berserker is the only one here who has experience in world-ending affairs. My True Name is no secret by now, and Lancer, your True Name eludes me, although I have some guesses. No other Servant left in this war is close to the power that Berserker is capable of amassing."

"You need not address me by my class name, Archer. It besmirches me," Berserker added. "But before we move any further, I fear there is a thief among us. Lancer!" The room looked towards Lancer in confusion. "No mortal has ever held that blade of yours. It's impossible. It was forged and used by gods to create the eastern lands, never held by any heroic spirit. So, tell us, Lancer, who are you? Otherwise, why should I, the strongest Servant, include you in my entourage?" Qing put a palm to her face, embarrassed by her Servant's speech.

"They're still in the war after this, surely we can't expect them to - " Qing started before Lancer held up her hand.

"No. It's okay. It's not something I would expect anyone to understand. And Rider's Master threatens my homeland today, which is more important than any past regrets of mine," Lancer said. She drew her naginata gingerly and held it in front of her with her palms up. Berserker's eyes widened upon closer inspection. He had never thought of the Primordial Blade's physical existence, and never expected to witness someone use it against him. "The Heavenly Jeweled Spear belongs to no one - you are right about that, Wukong. But it is a part of every Japanese denizen. It is in all of us, for every second of every day. It's a part of the islands, the oceans, and the bridges between them. It _is_ Japan. As an Empress of Japan, as a leader that fought for Japan and defended it, for that reason, I may hold it in battle."

"Japanese and pride," Berserker said as he rolled his eyes. He knew she was eastern based on last night's confrontation and her anxiety towards his remarks, but he couldn't put the pieces together.

"That would make you...Jingu?" Archer concluded. Lancer put her spear away, showed her palms outward, and bowed. "I did peg you for a military leader, but surely not the legendary Empress. It will be an even higher honor to fight next to you then. Wukong, does this satisfy you? We need to start planning." Berserker huffed as Archer was the one to deduce her True Name and not him. Although jealous, he smirked to signal his approval. He honestly would have continued regardless, but even he knew that information was always to be gained when in such a unique position.

Viktor sighed; he had hit roadblock after roadblock with his strategies in this war. Too many strong Servants stood in his way; that compounded with his haste. Even now, with just the remainder, two kings and an empress. The chances to grab the grail for himself were miniscule if they existed at all anymore. Realistically, the chance was never there from the beginning.

Viktor's legs had faltered beneath him. He fell to his knees while his breath turned thick. What little mana he clung onto sapped into the air as if a syringe was thrust into his lungs. He could tell that Oliver must have used the _**Imperfect Philosopher's Stone**_ again, but this felt different. The first time Caster had used it, it felt like a Siberian kangaroo kicked him in the stomach. When Oliver used it the second time, it felt like a truck ran him off of a highway. This felt different. This time it was like a ghost passed over him and sucked what remained of his senses away. It circled him, and with every pass, took a little more until there was nothing left to keep him conscious.


	16. Chapter XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Viktor fell unconscious, it was clear to the defense that Oliver had used the remainder of Viktor's mana. Franklin had informed Caitlin of the worst case scenario: Oliver Storgaard had forced the Holy Grail to appear by the use of his Noble Phantasm. Although the Grail was not ready to grant a wish, Oliver stands by its side, prepared to cast the final stone in this Holy Grail war as well as for the society of all mages.

Lancer IV

Evening christened the designated area; what was once a canyon spry with foliage and a free flowing river had turned into a flattened, rocky, muddy, destroyed section of terrain that would forever be forgotten along the Chinese landscape. Wildlife had long abandoned this refuge and insects had adjusted their flight paths to avoid this place.

The insufficient defense of the magical world approached Oliver Storgaard from what little remained of a forest treeline to the south of the canyon. Oliver's Noble Phantasm had successfully forced the Holy Grail to begin its materialization, but it was not yet ready to grant his wish. If anything, it would continue to form throughout the evening. At best, for the defense, it would continue until morning. When Viktor fell unconscious, they knew that their time was already limited. The longer it took, the more time the Association might have had to send reinforcements.

Lancer assessed the forces she had to work with. Although Mai was mostly unhindered from the night, Lancer had been draining her mana to recover faster. Even so, Mai's mana reserves were large; Lancer could at least depend on her Master to hold her own, or possibly escape in a worst-case scenario. Viktor, unconscious, twitched and spasmed with every turn. Qing Shan could, at best, run. The wounds she sustained from the multiple Servants last night were not ones that would heal over half of a day. Berserker might have been in a slightly better shape, but only because he actively drained Qing's mana as it recovered. Archer was on his last leg of mana - there would be little to no true support from him. And last she had Caitlin Weiss, and regardless of how much mana she had, Lancer did not sense her to be stable this evening. The past several hours possibly caught up to her as the time on this war drew to a close.

"Just like we planned. Is everyone ready?" Archer started. The group followed with nods as all eyes went to Lancer. As the most undamaged and with the most mana flow from Mai, she was plagued with the first pass. Lancer was not afraid of Oliver Storgaard, but from the accounts of Caitlin and Archer, he could inflict significant damage if underestimated. They needed speed to dodge Oliver's movement spells, and possibly to escape his heat magic. The group spared no time as they spread themselves out around the designated area to, at the very least, limit Oliver Storgaard's escape options. Mai remained with the unconscious Viktor and Kristof Conrad as the group hoped for Viktor to awaken before the battle went too far. His limited connection to Caster was one of their options for stalling Oliver - if it was an option at all.

 _ **"** **Second Harvest,"**_ Lancer cast. Her body shone a light blue around her sides, her muscles flexed, and blood pumped through her limbs. In a dash of speed that rivaled Rider's, Lancer met Oliver's back with the hilt of her spear as the image of Oliver faded away. This was assumed - Archer was aware of Caster's after-image technique when Alan Bach fell for the trick the night of his death. Lancer used her boost of speed and leapt high into the air with the general knowledge that Oliver was hidden within the canyon. She held her spear upward, closer to the heavens, and called, _**"** **Amenonuhoko!** **"**_ The jewels along the back of the naginata shone with a piercingly bright gleam from their myriad of colors as they broke through the orange evening clouds. Lancer took her spear and directed it toward the canyon's muddy ground and readied her arm. The spear shot waves of energy toward the ground and pushed mass left and right as it reshaped the area of the gorge. The pulses let Lancer fall slowly as the area morphed and warped around its existing features. The shattered mountain bases turned to sprouted trees, the swampy ground drained out into hillsides, and a new river surfaced and connected to the old.

The constant flux of the ground forced Oliver out of his advantageous position - a ridge along the mountainside that Archer had previously claimed during the first night of the conflict. All the same, the ridge collapsed from under him and forced Oliver into a free fall. _**"** **Motion!"**_ he yelled to slow his body down to make no harsh impact with the new, solid ground. "You're too late, Lancer. I don't know that Noble Phantasm of yours, but it cannot stop the Holy Grail from becoming mine."

Lancer rushed at Oliver, naginata gripped, and unleashed a flurry of stabs at Oliver, all met with a range of _**Motion**_ and _**Refract**_ spells to bend, push, and slide Lancer away from any actual impact. Lancer's _**Harvest**_ spell had finally subsided as she lost the speed that kept her at a much higher pace than Oliver. Without that, dodging Lancer's attacks was all too easy for the Demi-Servant.

Mai VI

Mai remained with Viktor at the southern end of the newly designed designated area while Caitlin and Archer split along the eastern edge with the freshly added river. Qing and Berserker went in the opposite direction in an attempt to surround Oliver while Lancer used as much mana that Mai could give her to keep Oliver busy. Kristof joined Mai to ensure his uncle's safety, but resolved to run away with Viktor should the situation turn sour quickly.

"Berserker should be joining Lancer soon," Kristof said. "Although I wouldn't doubt it if he and his Master left Lancer to die on her own. Archer will fade away tonight regardless. If this Oliver Storgaard business never happened, the Grail would have been as good as theirs if they could wait."

"I...I don't think they would do that," Mai added. She stammered, but was confident in her assessment of Qing and Berserker.

"This war changes people. You just don't understand yet." Mai waited. She thought for a moment and critically, seriously thought about whether she was more different now than she was a week ago. Perhaps she was. But not in the way Kristof accused Berserker of.

"No," she added soundly. "There are good people here." Viktor began to rustle and raise his eyelids. Mai bent down to his side quickly, but was wary as to not touch him.

"Uncle! Can you hear us? Please tell us you're okay."

"Ugh..." Viktor rolled from the headache that still plagued him, but was aware enough to know they were no longer in the Conrad estate. "What has happened, Kristof?"

"The battle has started. I'm sorry we couldn't revive you earlier. We were worried that Oliver would take any mana we gave you - we had to hope you would come around on your own."

"That was smart."

"Lancer forced Oliver out of hiding," Mai started, "and Berserker should be joining her shortly once she's forced Oliver to use more of his own mana. The only problem left is..." Mai hung on her statement before Viktor finished for her.

"Command seals."

"Yes. Lancer is telling me that she only sees one left on his hand. We figured we could force him to use it if both Berserker and Lancer overwhelm him, as long as..."

"Wukong, agh, needs to commit," Viktor finished. Mai looked to the ground beside them. How many wars does it take for any one person to become as jaded as these two? Or rather, how many times does one need to have lost in just one war to feel that way? She thought back to what Caitlin had said at the Conrad estate. Her entire family had been lost, one at a time, until she had nothing. Mai might have been removed from such tragedies, but she felt no good would come from them now if she stopped believing in those who were able to make a difference. Instead, she turned to Viktor and offered an innocent, hopeful smile.

Just as Viktor doubted the plan, the trio heard a crash from across the canyon.

Berserker III

"It's time, Master. Use a command seal for me," Berserker asked. He was prepared to take his place in this war as the savior of the magus world.

"I told you not to call me Master anymore. You are a king."

"All the same. The time for games is over. After this, when the grail is ours, you must abide by your promise. That first command seal of yours you used, I will hold you to it until the day you die if you refuse me." Qing scoffed with a giant smile.

"What makes you think you'd be a match for me after all? If I remember correctly, I fought all of those Servants last night just as you did." Berserker blinked harshly at his Master's comment - she had not shown such overconfidence since the war started. He chuckled into a large bellow with his reply.

"Only you could possibly summon me, Master! There will be many days of sparring after tonight per your promise, I promise you that, Master," Berserker said with a smile.

"Then by power of command seal, Wukong, defeat Oliver Storgaard." Berserker's muscles flexed tight and pulsed with red, radiant magical energy. His armors shone eons beyond what has been seen throughout the war. "And for the last one...Wukong, by power of command seal, I order you to save the world." Qing's last seal burned away with the evening sky as no more power flushed into Berserker's arms.

"That last one was too vague, Master, it won't..." Qing smirked as Berserker realized what she was doing.

"The King of Monkeys needs no more support. When we win the grail, it is yours. I believe in you, Wukong. You are worth the praise," she said and she hugged him with all of the energy she had left to spare. Berserker put a hand on Qing's head and eased her off of him.

"Your hopes are placed in the proper hero. Thank you...Qing." Berserker stepped away and launched himself down into the new gorge to come face to face with Lancer and Oliver. His command seal had him land forcefully with an entrance fitting of the strongest Servant. "You finally show yourself, Lancer!" Berserker announced. Lancer disengaged easily, as Oliver was never really on the attack. With her speed back to normal, however, Lancer had to be more cautious. Thankfully both her and Berserker could attack at the same time.

"Even the two of you cannot stop the Grail now. I defeated Saber and Assassin together, I can defeat both of you together, no matter if one of you is Wukong," Oliver chided, overconfident, but rightfully so. Berserker ignored Oliver and focused on Lancer, per their original plan. Oliver raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed that the King of Monkeys paid him no mind or attention. However, he had remembered that neither of these two had seen him since he acquired Caster's power. With Berserker's focus on Lancer, he did not think they were aligned. Much to Oliver's detriment, he was unaware of the conclusive events of the previous night within Caster's _**Cubic Plane**_. Berserker pulled out his staff and rushed to Lancer as their weapons met in a powerful clang. The force seen the previous night pulsed outwards in all directions, but Lancer and Berserker pulled their attacks towards Oliver to startle him much more.

Oliver did not expect such a holy crash. He was taken aback, shook in place as wind flushed him from his position. The two servants clashed again and made Oliver wince more as his position became compromised. They continued to clash their holy weapons towards Oliver until Lancer asked Berserker out loud, "where is Archer?!"

Archer VIII

"This is our position," Archer told Caitlin. Caitlin had been absent for the majority of the assessment of how to tactfully eliminate Oliver Storgaard. Not physically. Archer understood Caitlin more than anyone else in the room and volunteered the two of them to be stationed together for the ranged assault while Berserker and Lancer distracted Oliver. The plan was to have Archer's holy weapon cause more disruptions with the other two Servants' while ranged attacks barraged from afar. It was a plan that saved as much mana as possible while the legendary weapons and Caitlin did most of the work, and hopefully catch Oliver off guard enough to land some fatal blows.

"I'm ready," Caitlin said with no emphasis.

"Are you, Miss Support? From here on out, everything you've lost; it really is dependent on if you are ready." Archer stared at her. He knew everyone grieved differently when major loss was thrust into them. He was no stranger to the toll the tides took. But if he couldn't depend on her right now, then many more lives would be lost by midnight.

For the first time since she lost Erica, Caitlin breathed faster. Shorter. Almost in pants. Her eyes became soggy, her head became foggy. She wanted to fall to her knees, but Archer held her. She wanted to hit the ground, she wanted to feel the dirt, she wanted to feel something, anything other than the weight that had been inside of her chest since this morning, but Archer held her. She wanted to go back to Orso, she wanted to throw a bolt into Viktor's unconscious body, she wanted to sleep, she wanted to stop, but Archer held her. She tried to push against him and put space between her, this war, Oliver Storgaard, and everything else in between. Yet, still Archer held her. There were no more words from him, only a newly dampened tunic that turned slightly darker with every breath that Caitlin took.

"I..." she started, "I don't think I can..." she stammered, sniffed, and mumbled into him. "I just want to...Orso is still alive..."

"And that is okay."

"But I need to be here. No...I can..." She waited and wiped her face dry. "I can give you more mana."

"I don't think we have time for any rituals, Miss Support."

"No! I can make you my familiar. I don't need to be a Master to have a powerful familiar. I have plenty of mana to sustain you for a day. You can use my mana much better than I can right now. If he finds out where I am, I don't think any of you could save me fast enough."

"Why didn't you bring that up when we made the plan?" Caitlin thought for just a second before she stared directly into Archer's eyes.

"Because...I think that's what I wanted. For you to not be fast enough..." The two let the gravity fill the air from her comment. "But...I think maybe this might be better for everyone. I'm the last mana we have and I..."

"You don't need to - "

"No. I'm a risk. I can see that right now. Please, Archer. Take it from me. Take my role from this war away from me." She begged as she didn't waver from her stare. She gripped his tunic harder as Archer frowned, but he understood. He thought back to his wife, as he had when he met Caitlin in what seemed like many months ago in a country far away from here. His wife, although entirely independent, had that same stare. The same ferocity in her eye when she knew exactly what she wanted and would never relent. It was done. The decision had been made before Archer could even deny it.

"Offer me a contract then, Miss Support."

"...Stop calling me that." Caitlin held out her hand, bare, without the etchings that separated her from her the rest of her family, and asked, "Holy Grail, hear my plea. Grant me this familiar as my own. _My will creates your body. Your sword creates my destiny. Obey me, then I shall entrust my fate to your sword._ "

"I will accept this call," Archer said as he took Caitlin's hand. A small, bright light glimmered between the two of them as Caitlin's mana poured into him. His lungs filled with fresh air, his muscles pulsed with fresh blood, and his eyes had some fresh hope. The clashes from Berserker and Lancer tossed their way through Caitlin and Archer's position - the time to act was now. "You may go. I will do what I can."

"Thank you, Archer...Thank you for understanding."

"More than you know, Miss Master."

"Don't call me that either...Odysseus." And for the first time this day, Caitlin let out a small smile.


	17. Chapter XV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final fight dawns as the sun finally sets. Archer's mana is replenished and Oliver's Holy Grail nears completion. Although the Servants' original plan deviated for longer than anticipated, the three kings stand their ground against the largest threat against the magical world that has ever existed.

Berserker IV

As the two Servants crashed their holy weapons together and continued to distract Oliver, they both heard a Noble Phantasm cry out in the distance: _**"**_ _ **Apollo's Bow!**_ _ **"**_ The arrow found its mark at Oliver's thigh and lodged itself soundly into his flesh. With a cry, Oliver yanked the arrow away from his body which left a trail of blood on his pant leg.

Berserker spared no time and offered Oliver no reprieve. It was clear to him from Archer's attack that he had regained some mana from Caitlin. "Wukong! Wait!" Lancer yelled as Berserker dashed towards Oliver.

"I'll end this now!" His veins still pulsed with Qing's command seal as he brought his staff up to crush Oliver.

_**"** **Motion!"**_ was all Oliver needed to call to pull Berserker off to the side. With a grunt, Berserker continued his attack. Archer took the opportunity that Berserker had made and readied his bow again from afar:

_**"** **Apollo's Bow! "** _

_**"** **Gravity! Motion! Refract!"**_ cried Oliver as he unleashed many spells to try and curve the Noble Phantasm. Although it stayed true and hit Oliver's left arm, it did not do so without being curved through Berserker's right shoulder from Oliver's myriad of spells to distort it. "I'll just have to pit you all against each other, then!"

"Archer!" Berserker yelled with a snarl. Although unintended, Archer knew now that he would not be lucky enough to get a seamless hit again without doing additional damage to his fellow Servants. Even if he could, Caitlin did not have limitless mana to do as he pleased. Archer joined alongside Lancer from his vantage point and Berserker backed away from Oliver as well.

"So this is what it looks like, huh?" Oliver asked the trio. "Three holy Noble Phantasms and none of them are able to kill me. By all means, Archer, keep using that gifted bow of yours. I'll be sure to put it through every one of your allies." Archer squinted. Perhaps he became overconfident when Caitlin had restored his mana.

"What you're looking for," Archer started, "this isn't what it looks like. Oliver Storgaard, surely you must know - " Oliver cut Archer off by casting a _**Melting Bolt**_ in his direction, which Archer dodged swiftly. "Magecraft doesn't end here, on this day. Someone will pick up a tome. Someone will learn. And once again, everything you've sought to undo, takes fresh root."

Oliver hung on Archer's sentence. It was what happened to him in a direct fashion. The mages' world thrust into him as if he had no say in the matter. It circled him, engulfed him, and under no reason other than the fact that it existed. It made Oliver snarl and bite his lower lip. He refused to have that fate pushed onto anyone ever again.

"Now!" Archer yelled. Berserker dashed to Oliver with his staff in hand as he brought it down over Oliver's head.

"Do not take me so lightly, Wukong! _**Refract!**_ " Berserker's staff crashed into the dirt below Oliver to his left, but immediately behind him was Lancer, and behind her Archer. _**"** **Refract! Refract!"**_ Oliver warped their weapons around as the three attacked him in close quarters until he could no longer deduce where the weapons were coming from. With a final spell, Oliver had transposed Lancer's holy blade into the stomach of Berserker himself.

"Wukong!" Lancer yelled.

_**"** **Motion!"**_ cast Oliver to push the trio away into the trees. The plan to use their weapons as their guiding force had been done against them. Berserker crashed into a thick, newly sprouted tree and lost what remained of his breath. He seeped coughs and breaths as a hand went toward his gut.

"Puh," he let out as Lancer recovered. She went to his side as Archer followed. "Stupid Lancer..." he waited, but she did not refute. The damage had already been done. Berserker looked at Archer out of the corner of his eye and with a final breath said nothing at all as he faded away.

Archer IX

"We're out of options," Archer said to Lancer as the Holy Grail neared completion. It sent a pulse through the canyon as Oliver stood by its side.

"Archer, no! He still has the command seal!"

"There's no time! Tell your Master to use a command seal. Stall him while I cast the spell. This is all that's left. Japan, Greece, both of our lands will fall if we don't do this right now!" he yelled at her. Lancer gripped her spear as she silently asked Mai. Within the moment, her garb shone red and her muscles tightened. Without any more words, as Lancer understood Archer's tactics, she dashed back into the canyon to assault a barrage onto Oliver, met with nothing but dirt and air.

Archer stepped away from the trees. The insects that had finally returned to this land under the night sky had once again grown silent. The pulsations from the clashes Noble Phantasms had already wrecked the new landscape that Lancer had designed. The sky let the deep Chinese stars illuminate the ground they walked as Archer took a final deep breath.

_"This is the final call,"_

The green spell circle encapsulated the canyon. Sparks latched onto the trees and the river that surrounded them. A wave of wind gushed out towards the onlooking Masters while Oliver kept his attention on Lancer.

"What is he doing?!" Mai asked Viktor.

"This is it..." Viktor replied. "Right, Kristof?"

"It's the same, uncle!"

_"For the path of your fall,"_

Chains from the spell circle gripped Archer's limbs and pulled him down into the dirt, but the Servant stood tall. His eyes never left his target and he did not falter.

_"To claim this pact,"_

The words reached Oliver as he continued to dodge and push Lancer away. He noted the spell circle and the ominous voice that coursed through the valley.

"I...this..." Mai started with a hand out towards Archer. "I know this spell..." Viktor turned to Mai sullenly.

"My vision does not end here today, Archer!" Oliver shouted as he raised his fist and burned his final command seal. _ **"** **Gravitational Field!"**_ The entire canyon fell under Oliver's cast. It reached out as far as Mai and Viktor and they fell to their knees with Kristof behind the trees. _**"** **Melting Wave!"**_ In the same fashion as how he killed Erica, his wave crashed through the landscape towards Archer. Unable to speak, Archer faced the heat wave fly towards him. Unable to defend, unable to stop, locked in place by chains and gravity, the air took Archer away into nothing but the sparks and chains that no longer had anything to latch onto.

Mai VII

Mai stared at the Grail as it shone through the canyon. Light pierced the foliage and reached up to the dark, clear sky in a glorious fashion. There was nothing left on their side. One Servant, not even strong enough to defeat Oliver when combined with two other kings. Although Lancer had shown great skill and prowess with her Noble Phantasm, there seemed to be nothing that could pierce through Oliver's defenses.

Lancer had retreated to Mai, Viktor, and Kristof as well as Qing. The last of what remained of the mages' defense.

"Where is Caitlin?!" Qing asked Lancer.

"It looked like she gave all of her mana to Archer. She's gone." The group looked at the ground. There wasn't much mana left collectively within the group. Qing could still barely walk, and without her Servant, she held little to give. Viktor barely stood, awake, but manaless. Kristof took Qing's hand and began to transfer as much mana as he could with the light touch, but even then, it would certainly not be enough. The King of Monkeys had fallen. The King of Ithaca had fallen. The Empress of Japan would certainly be next in line as the final Servant in the war.

"I can't believe it...Archer would have used it," Viktor started.

"Do you know what happens when someone uses that spell? I haven't heard of anyone else who knew it!" Mai yelled at Viktor. The Holy Grail began to pulsate across the canyon.

"The real question is why...do you know it? Of all people? After all this time and searching, I never found another mage who knew about its existence. Then Archer chants it, and now you, some girl, knows it as well?"

"It...it was in one of the books in my parent's basement. Its notes said to never use it. That was all."

"Your parents?" Viktor asked. He had but one thought, that possibly, someone who stretched out a hand to him with no cause other than to help might have been next to him this whole time.

"Ayumi! Aya and Jun Ayumi!" His name. His name pounded Viktor's temple as he raced back and forth in circles in an attempt to remember Jun's surname. It had to be. This Greek spell, lost in time, lost to the wayside of the Hall of Heroes, resided finally with this girl. Jun's final gift to the world was not to save it one time. It was to save it again. Always, just like he said. Just like he told him twenty years ago.

"Your father..." Viktor said with christened eyes.

"What?"

"Twenty years ago he was in the war with me. He used that spell and saved the world from Assassin. Surely..." Lancer stepped between Mai and Viktor.

"You cannot expect her to go through with that. She has more life to live."

"No. I agree. I will not let the daughter of my true friend be subject to such disaster. It is clear to me that I need to do everything I can to keep you safe, Mai. For Jun."

Time had run empty. Bursts of sounds crashed through the group as Oliver held his arms out wide to accept the Grail as his own. The ground began to quake as Lancer looked back to him. "There isn't any more time to discuss. Mai, use another command seal. I need to try to stall him."

"Lancer..." Mai started as she had just about given up hope. But she saw the determination in Lancer's face. Even against all odds, after Oliver had killed many Servants and orchestrated the entire war to his benefit, Lancer had yet to waver. She had grounded Mai in every section of this war, and now, perhaps, it was time for Mai to protect her wishes.

"By power of command seal, Lancer, delay Oliver Storgaard." The second petal of her command seal faded into the sky as Lancer cast her spell.

_**"** **Final Harvest!"**_ Lancer dashed into the maelstrom of dust that now hovered over Oliver and the Grail as Mai kept her hand raised.

"By power of command seal...Lancer, you will not stop me." The final petal fell softly through the canyon, and as Lancer heard it, she did not turn around. Not because she couldn't, but because she had seen Mai grow over the course of this war. Mai had come to the decision herself, not from an observation or suggestion. It was her choice, and her choice was to protect not only Japan, but all lands from the devastation that surrounded them. It made Lancer proud.

"Mai, no! I refuse!" Viktor said.

"I'm ready," Qing said as Kristof let go of her hands. "I can fight for about five minutes. I will help Lancer."

"You as well? Berserker is gone - you can survive if you leave now! Go back to your family!" Viktor couldn't stop himself from the gesture. It was long embedded in his mind that there was always another day to fight.

"The only one I called family died moments ago. I will support you here until I cannot anymore. Are you doing this, Mai?" Mai nodded in affirmation. "Good luck. _**Blitz.**_ " Qing cast with what little mana she had now poured into her legs. Magical energy set her circuits ablaze as she dashed to Lancer's side.

The two met Oliver as he reached out to grab the Grail himself but the fighters forced him to curve them around yet again. "You all return like moths to the flame! _**Motion!**_ " Qing's fists and Lancer's blade dodged Oliver in every fashion. His spells, as displayed numerously, gave him an impenetrable defense against all offensive properties. Only Archer's bow's holy properties had forced arrows to land when all else failed.

"Mai, please, let me keep you safe...don't let me make the same mistakes I made before..." Viktor pleaded. Mai shook her head confidently.

"I've decided. Please protect me while I prepare, Viktor, Kristof..." she added a final line, "I am depending on you."

"Mai, stop!" With a hand in slight trembles, she began:

_"This is the final call,"_

The same spell circle that had once engulfed Archer formed beneath Mai. The Greek etches stretched and curved along the boundaries of the event. Viktor did not want to believe that she had learned it, but alas, Jun's daughter knew every spell that he had.

"What? Again?" Oliver said as he pushed his two combatants away from him. "I don't know what that is, but it's not coming near me and _my_ Grail! _**Melting Bolt!**_ " he fired at her as Kristof moved to intercept it.

_**"Disperse!"**_ he cast to send the bolt in an off direction as it ruined a boulder.

_"For the path of your fall,"_

Sparks latched onto Mai's fingertips as the force tossed her hair back. The chains began to form beneath her as the chains whipped around in search of their host. Mai winced from the shock, but held her arm outright with her other hand to steady herself.

_"To claim this pact,"_

Oliver raised his arms and with a surge of energy cleared the space around him. _**"** **Melting Wave!"**_ The heat wave soared its way through the canyon towards Mai and Kristof when a supporting chant came from behind them.

_**"** **Icy Wind!"**_ An opposite burst tossed Oliver's spell around and dissipated it into the air as if nothing had happened at all.

"Caitlin!" Kristof said, surprised.

"I couldn't hear anything from Archer so I turned around...I'm here. I can be here," she declared.

_"An ending price,"_

The chains tugged at Mai's limbs and snapped at her bones. Her muscles tore with every new line, her fingers started to break and collapse on themselves. "It...ugh...it hurts..." Mai pushed out as black winds erupted from the circle. They flowed into the canyon floor prepared to take in the accused at Mai's discretion.

_**"** **Revitalize!"**_ Kristof cast on Mai in an attempt to keep her standing longer. Her muscles might have regenerated but not at the pace the shocks and chains damaged her.

As Mai stood against the spell, the Grail had reached completion. It pushed light through the canyon against the dust and black winds while Oliver continued to dodge Qing and Lancer.

_**"** **Melting Bolt! Gravity!"**_ Oliver had sent towards Qing, as it grazed her legs and stopped her quick movements. Oliver used his _**Motion**_ and pushed her far back near Caitlin into the dirt. She stopped Qing's tumble and held her upright while Lancer continued her onslaught against Oliver's parade of spells as he said, "this is my achievement! The Grail recognizes me!"

_"I hereby enact..."_

Oliver pushed Lancer to the cliffside as he spun and reached for the Grail, just meters away as Mai concluded:

_**"** **Ardent Sacrifice."** _

The chains circled Mai and launched themselves towards Oliver. Angrier now more than ever, he continued to use his array of spells to force the chains into the dirt around the Grail, but they did not relent. One chain after another surfaced from beneath Mai's spell circle and flung themselves at Oliver constantly with no end. Eventually, Oliver missed one. Then another. And soon his ankle had been caught by the spell. "Unhand me!" he writhed, but the chains spoke no language. They tripped him, and pulled him across the dirt of the canyon towards Mai. In a gargle of obscenities, they dragged Oliver down through the circle as it began to close.

Mai was not ignored. The chains continued as they grabbed her shoulders as well, slowly, dragging her down into the hell that lay beneath the spell circle. She struggled at first, but realized that she had resigned herself to this fate before she began her chant. With one final ounce of strength, she looked to Viktor, smiled, and fell into the closed circle.

Viktor VII

"It's over, then..." Kristof said softly. The canyon was far from quiet as the Holy Grail roared for its winner. The golden glow pierced the thin clouds that remained after Mai's spell concluded.

Caitlin stayed on the ground with the unconscious Qing, exasperated by the events that unfolded in front of her. "What did Mai just..."

"She's gone...she did it..." Viktor concluded. He fell to his knees. Two Masters gone to the same fate, twenty years apart. His hands came up to his face, frustrated and confused. Not only was he blind to Jun's actions, but he could not convince Mai to make a different decision.

Lancer pushed herself up to a knee from the base of the mountain she had crashed into as she incessantly scanned the canyon for Mai. She knew Mai was gone, but couldn't help but search. As the seconds rolled, she felt her connection to Mai separate. One thread of mana at a time, one centimeter closer to the Hall of Heroes. She looked down at her hand as it began to slowly go off into the air. The Holy Grail stared her down as she was the closest to the spoil, yet she did the unthinkable. She stood, and turned her back to the relic. As close as she was, it was not hers. With what little connection she had left to Mai, she could put her blade through Viktor and Qing on her own. One manaless. The other, asleep. The Grail was hers. But she did not want it if it meant she needed to betray everyone who had worked with her Master in her final act. It would be tasteless.

As flurries floated off of her shoulders, she walked back towards Viktor, still on his knees. He looked up to the Servant, still strong. Still strong enough, he thought.

"What did you wish for? Ten years ago?" Lancer asked. Viktor stopped his trembles and took a slow breath.

"Prosperity for my family." He waited as Lancer continued to fade away. "What would you have wished for, Lancer? If your Master was still here?"

Without a second wasted, Lancer said, "prosperity for Japan. I have many regrets, but Japan is more important. As are Japan's allies when I was Empress. I suppose that was part of my regrets after all. If the Grail would have it, I would wish for theirs too." Lancer held out her almost-faded hand and helped Viktor to his feet. "But now, after all of this, I think I would wish for only one thing."

"What is that?"

Lancer smiled gingerly, softly, and faded away into the dusty air.

"Uncle..." Kristof started. "It...it's yours again..."

How absurd, Viktor thought. He had failed, utterly and thoroughly. This Holy Grail had fallen into his lap without any help of his own. His foolishness had brought about the death of Erica Weiss. The severe injury of Orso Belvedere and Qing Shan. The permanent emotional damage to Caitlin Weiss. And the uncertain fate of Mai Ayumi. He had been so old and tired while she was so eager and talented. He had no reason to fight, and she was too young to be gone. He had waited and watched and paused for the duration of this war. This Holy Grail War. He had lost his Servant, his mana, his true friend's daughter. He had maximized his previous wish to its fullest potential.

Why was he even in this war? He thought back to when he summoned Caster. His legacy, he remembered. His family's request to win again. More prosperity? More wealth and power? What does that even mean?

He remembered his Aunt Rita and her philosophies. Family will come first in every scenario. The frustrations and issues that come along with the decision to always put family first were secondary to the longer game that spanned generations.

He remembered Caitlin Weiss, Orso Belvedere, and all of the harm his family had caused theirs. Parents and siblings stomped into nothing over the past half decade due to the Conrads' own selfish ploys. The other families of The Clock Tower were pawns to them in the grand scheme to achieve something magnificent.

And Jun. How he wished to be like Jun. Family always. Trite, at best. Did it not mean the same thing? Was it not what Viktor did when he single handedly rebuilt his family over the past twenty years? But then he realized. Family wasn't just blood, no. It couldn't have been only the riders off of Viktor's success who jeered him into another war for more of the same. It had to be more. It was those who held an outstretched hand along the way.

The Holy Grail had ceased its pulsations and directed its light to Viktor. He approached it slowly, much unlike his attitude ten years ago. He grasped its handle and made the only wish that he truly wanted.


	18. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The participants of the Luoyang Holy Grail War adapt to its aftermath. Losses, gains, and motivations change as the living reintegrate themselves into society.

Caitlin Weiss

Caitlin retreated to her family home in Birmingham. The losses to the Weiss family were fatal, and Caitlin was met with a choice: resign and live whatever remainder of a happy life she might have, or begin preparations for the next Holy Grail War.

She wanted to try. She thought she might have to try. There was no one else to plan with. No more sister to bond with over their pain. She had been so quick, in the most critical moment, to abandon the Luoyang war. How could she possibly prepare for and fight in the next war on her own? She had no powerful relics, no family army, and no further chances.

Viktor's philosophy had plagued her. Should she fight to resurrect her family, and would that go against everything they had fought for? Perhaps, she thought, if they had ever won anything. What was her father even fighting for, all those years ago? The same goal as Viktor Conrad had achieved?.

That's not the same. They had fought and lost. There was no glory in it, no victory, no accomplishments. It would not dishonor the family if they could be happy again or fishing on the same lake in Lancashire again. There was another war to prepare for, and Caitlin knew she had to try. It was her duty to try again.

Orso Belvedere

Orso would retire from his position in the Association due to the heavy injuries he had sustained during the war. He was not immobile, but he moved much slower in daily proceedings. It was clear that he wanted to give up anything he could to support Caitlin in her future endeavors. Even with his ailments, he stayed by her side. With the war over, the two could finally mourn Erica's death in peace. They celebrated her accomplishments and what she completed alongside them.

The Association had granted Orso a professorship position in Clock Tower. The job was fulfilling, but his mind was always on Caitlin. She had told him her plans for the next war, but he brought her pause. His suggestion was to retire with what they had left, to be as happy as can be while offering respect to those who have already fallen. But Caitlin's will was solid. She would not waver again. All the same, she asked him to assist her. She knew that she needed all of the help in her corner that she could gain, and if Orso still truly loved her, he would do this with her.

On one condition, he would ask, as he thought about retirement in a country where the two shared their most fond memories.

Qing Shan

Qing never affiliated with the Association on any further matters. Instead, she continued to work throughout China to teach young mages how to defend and work for themselves should the opportunity arise to earn their keep. She donated her time and the rest of her life to communities around China to ensure the next generation grew up strong, secure, and happy.

She had no intention of participating in the next war. She would go on searches in attempts to find relics to summon or speak to Wukong in other ways, but to no avail. If she could not fight with the strongest Servant known to China, then she did not want to participate at all. She knew, however, that she had a promise to keep. She owed Wukong a sparring match one way or another, and she would continue to search for him so she could stay true, as he knew she would be.

Viktor Conrad

After the war, Viktor passed on the mantle of the family to Kristof. It was clear that after winning the Holy Grail War twice, he had nothing left to prove to the world. Having said that, he never felt like he won either of them. The first war, his Saber had won for him. The second war, every other participant contributed more to the victory than him. All the same, power had comfortably been nestled into the Conrad estate. Generations secured for the future of the family as the Conrads flooded the magical world with insight, discoveries, and adaptations that would contribute to the Association for decades.

He kept his job as a professor at Clock Tower and continued to train young mages in their endeavors. New students arrived every semester to learn from his wisdom as a two-time heroic winner of the most coveted prize in the magical world. If he wasn't already an icon, then he was considered a legend now. How silly, he would think, when he didn't deserve the accolades at all. The only thing he was confident in was his final wish. The rest of the world assumed he had used it for more family prosperity. At least that's what he told everyone. As he felt it was not his to take, he made sure to use it to make him as content as possible.

Mai Ayumi

Mai finally became a student at Clock Tower per Viktor's pressure against the Association. They had denied her previous applications but they could not resist Viktor's enthusiastic approval. Mai could finally learn, show, and prove to the community just how far she had come from learning what her father had left behind in their basement's tomes.

Every day she attended one of Viktor's lectures. She learned from the most prominent mages on the planet, but no professor satisfied her itch for wisdom like Viktor Conrad did. If anything, she quickly became his favorite student while she remained indebted to Viktor. She could achieve her dreams now because of him, but that was only a part of it. The lessons she learned and knowledge she gained since the Luoyang Holy Grail War were immeasurable compared to a life secluded in her parents' basement. Now, thanks to him in more ways than one, she could prove how valuable she could be.

And without fail, every day she would approach Viktor with an outreached hand and thank him for everything he does, and he would respond the same way every time.

Always.


End file.
